


The Silver Fox

by Weberina



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Kitsune, Kitsune Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Shinto Priest Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weberina/pseuds/Weberina
Summary: In the Heian period, under the reign of the Emperor Murakami, a tale of much intrigue unfolded by the coasts of Japan, in the small town of Hasetsu. It is a tale that tells of the restoration of the Hasetsu shrine, and the many troubles in its path. A tale that tells of a courageous young priest and his uncanny determination. A tale that is fraught with the mischief and kindness of the kitsune spirit.This is the tale of the silver fox.◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉Part of the Victuuri Reverse Bang. Art by the awesome Amarok.





	1. Jo 序

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I'm so very excited to share this story with you, which was based on the art by the awesome [Amarok](http://amarokster.tumblr.com/) as part of the Viktuuri Reverse Bang. 
> 
> A special thanks to my sister and Sheilatakesabow for beta'ing the fic <3 <3 You guys are the absolute best T_T T_T

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

In the Heian period, under the reign of the Emperor Murakami, a tale of much intrigue unfolded by the coasts of Japan, in the small town of Hasetsu. It is a tale that tells of the restoration of the Hasetsu shrine, and the many troubles in its path. A tale that tells of a courageous young priest and his uncanny determination. A tale that is fraught with the mischief and kindness of the _kitsune_ spirit.

This is the tale of the silver fox.

 

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Jo 序

 

It began one day with the master of Fushimi Inari Taisha, who was the caretaker of the grandest and oldest place of worship dedicated to the great deity, Inari Ōkami. He was seated in the hall of the inner shrine, stroking his long silvery beard as he waited for the student he had summoned just moments ago.

For now, he was grateful for the transient serenity of the hall, to be left alone with his thoughts.

He had been charged with the care of this shrine many years ago. It was the greatest honour that could be bestowed upon any Shinto priest, since the Taisha was situated in Kyoto, the capital city of Japan, and was an object of imperial patronage, with a long history of generous contributions from emperors and noble families to its expansion and upkeep.

But in the nine decades of his service since he was a novice priest, in the multitude of spiritual revelations and insights he had been given, he could count on two hands the number of times he had been visited by the faithful messengers of Inari-sama in his dreams.

Although Inari-sama was well-known as the _kami_ of rice and prosperity, he was also the deity of foxes, or _kitsune_ . In fact, their ties to Inari-sama were so close that certain _kitsune_ were chosen to be his messengers and guardians of his shrines. They were playful but wise, never short of pranks and mischief, but devoted to their service of Inari and loyal to their mates.

A shrine dedicated to Inari was never far from the presence of the _kitsune_. The Taisha itself boasted at least half a dozen pairs, and the old master has had many dealings with them, for better or worse. It was said that a shrine without its guardians could never prosper.

However, these messengers rarely made their appearances in dreams, preferring instead to use trickery and illusions to deliver their messages indirectly, as they delighted in taking on their human form to blend into the mortal world.

This meant that their dream visitations were always of great importance, implying that the message was of sufficient gravity to warrant its direct delivery. Nonetheless, even then, their messages were often unhelpfully cloaked in riddles and confusion.

It has been ten years of silence since the last visitation but last night a kitsune had appeared once again.

In his dream, a tall slender man with silver hair and bright blue eyes had appeared, dressed in a tunic of white silk, his shoulders covered in sweeping robes of sky blue that were intricately embroidered with threads of glimmering silver, its long draping sleeves catching the light with his every move. However, his identity as a _kitsune_ was betrayed by the presence of his bushy silver tail and pointy ears.

The _kitsune_ had approached him with a mysterious smile, his eyes glinting with mischief and cunning as he said in a melodic voice,

“I come bearing a message for you, old master.”

The master had bowed quickly and replied, “And I listen with great attention, _kitsune_ -san.”

The _kitsune_ ’s voice was suddenly accusing and his lips were curved in dangerous smile.

“Inari-sama has sent me to tell you that you have kept a gem hidden in the Taisha for eight years, and that has been far too long for his liking.”

The old master looked at the young man in confusion, “A gem, _kitsune_ -san?”

“Indeed,” replied the _kitsune_ mysteriously, “Inari-sama also says that a gem hidden in the shadows is of use to no one. It must be cut and polished, so that its light may bring joy to those around. And he commands that you do so.”

But just as the master opened his mouth to enquire further, the _kitsune_ cut him off abruptly, “I have delivered my message, old master. And now I must depart.”

With that, the _kitsune_ transformed into a fox with gleaming silver fur, his long tail swishing through the night, as he ran off into the distant mist. But through the mist, the master could see the outlines of a towering vermilion _torii_ gate, framing a flight of cracked stone steps that led to a large shrine. Then, suddenly, the gate was engulfed in flames, and behind it he could see the toppling of columns and the crumbling of structures that morphed into a flurry of swirling colours and churning sounds.

His dreams after that were a baffling flood of chaos and confusion that seemed to have no end, causing him to toss and turn throughout the night, until morning came and the confounded visions finally released their hold.

Immediately upon waking, the old master cancelled a visit from a dignitary to ponder over this latest riddle from the _kitsune_ and the visions that had followed. It was neither wise nor sensible to ignore such a message.

After hours of silent meditation, he believed that he had cracked the riddle. Bit by bit he had parsed the vague terms, gradually coming to realize that the _kitsune_ had chosen its words very carefully.  

A gem hidden in the Taisha.

While the Taisha held many precious relics, the old master had long regarded the priests who came to work and learn at the Taisha as the most valuable asset the shrine possessed. It was the founding philosophy of the school he had helped to set up at the bidding of the emperor.

So, the kitsune must be referring to a person. A person who had been at the Taisha for eight years. A period that was too long for the usual apprentice who wished to become a village- or town-level shrine keeper, but too short for someone aspiring to remain at the Taisha or work towards higher ranks.

That brought the number down to only eleven of his current students. Among them, four he knew had already voiced their wish to continue their studies, and three were hardly gems of the Taisha, no matter the amount of polishing, thus leaving another four, who had all shown great promise and were probably destined for greater things. Who among them had drawn the attention of a _kitsune_ , so much so that it had appeared in person to deliver the message?

He had sat in the inner shrine, digging through his recollections about each of these four students, wondering how the subsequent visions applied.

Then, suddenly, he realised he recognised the shrine that was hidden in the mist. He had seen a painting of the shrine in the Taisha’s records when the student had first arrived.

This could only mean that the answer to the kitsune’s riddle lay with the reticent young man, who was now quietly ascending the stone steps to the inner shrine.

He waited patiently as Katsuki Yuuri approached him, noting with interest that his student was still wearing the simplest _kariginu_ vestment, which was usually worn by more junior priests, consisting only of a white belted robe and loose light-blue trousers. The master shook his head in amusement, his student could be very stubborn in his modesty, even when he had clearly earned the right to wear the more decorative and formal robes of the shrine.

Yuuri bowed deeply when he arrived before his master and waited for further instructions.

The old master stroke his beard thoughtfully again, and decided to venture on a tangent.

“You have been at the Taisha for eight winters and eight summers, Yuuri,” said the master solemnly, “Tell me, why did you first come to us?”

Yuuri's head remained low, as he said, “I came, so that I may return home with the knowledge to restore the old shrine that has fallen into ruin in my town. The Hasetsu shrine has been untended for nearly a century, and my town remains in ignorance about the teachings of Shinto.”

“And do you know why this has come to pass?” asked the master, “For the records show that the Hasetsu shrine used to be a jewel of the coast. I hear it had a remarkable library and was an admirable centre of learning.”

“It has been many generations since the glory days of the shrine,” replied Yuuri modestly, “Our town has also declined with its ruin. But the Okukawa family, who are the current keepers of the town’s historical records, believe that its neglect was caused by the death of one of the guardians, causing its mate to abandon the shrine as well.”

“Ah yes,” nodded the old master sagely, “ A shrine without its guardians is hard to maintain. Which is why we have endured much trouble to protect and entertain our own _kitsune_ , lest we face the same fate.”

“Indeed, my master,” replied Yuuri, sharing a small smile with his master, as they both knew the mischief that the foxes were capable of.

“Then, tell me this, Yuuri,” asked the old master sternly, “Why do you still serve with us, when it is customary for a shrine keeper of the village level to train for three years, and one of the town level to train for five. Yet, you have been here for eight years, only two years short of being able to serve at a shrine in a large city, like this very Taisha.”

Then, a sly smile appeared on the old master’s face and he said,  “Have you had a recent change of heart? Perhaps after learning that I will retire soon, and therefore have set your eyes on my position?”

Yuuri looked up at the old master in a panic and shook his head frantically. “That is not the reason, my master. It's just- I am- I believe that I am not ready for the task and have much more to learn before I am.”

“I do not believe that is the true reason, my faithful student,” chided the old master, “I think you know deep down that you are more than ready for the task. But you are afraid that all your efforts to restore the shrine, perhaps throughout your whole life, would be insufficient to attract a guardian. And without a guardian, the shrine will fail again, like it has with so many who have tried before you.”

Yuuri's eyes were downcast in shame, his shoulders heavy from the intangible burden.

When the silence had run its course, the old master asked, “Do I speak truth in my words, my student?”

With a sigh of resignation, Yuuri bowed again and said, “Yes, my master. It is my deepest fear.”

“Then, I bid you fear not,” said the old master with a kind, crinkled smile, causing Yuuri to look up from his bow. “I have reason to believe that your efforts will not be in vain.”

“May I know this reason, if it pleases my master?” asked Yuuri with open curiosity.

“Ah… that I will have to refuse,” replied the old master in a cryptic voice, “But I will say this, have faith that your work will be appreciated and the Hasetsu shrine will once again be graced by the presence of its guardians.”

Yuuri stared openly at the enigmatic smile on the old master’s face, confusion clearly written in his eyes, questions lingering on the tip of his tongue.

But, as was his usual manner, he bit back his doubts and resigned himself to the wisdom of his elders, which the old master thought was often ill-advised.

When it was clear that his student was not going to question his advice further, the old master smiled to himself and asked, "How long will you need to prepare for your departure?"

"Perhaps a week, my master," answered the young man tacitly.

"Very well," replied the old master, "Begin your preparations. And take your young apprentice with you. I believe the fresh air of the countryside will do him some good.”

As Yuuri gave a low bow and withdrew from the hall, his Master shook his head with a small chuckle of amusement.

Such a serious and dedicated student, humble to a fault.

Perhaps it was best that he had kept the dream to himself, revealing only what was necessary to urge his student out the door. The direct involvement of the _kitsune_ in any matter was always either a great blessing, or a great curse, or both. But it was a predicament that all keepers of Inari shrines had to face.

And, sometimes, it was best to allow the future to unfold under the bliss of ignorance.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Yuuri adjusted the reins in his hands as his horse sauntered forward in a slow trot, the pack horse carrying his meagre belongings following slowly behind.

He and his apprentice had been travelling for three days and with his town less than half a day’s ride away, he had sent Minami ahead to inform his family.

Although, the real reason was to seek solitude on the last stretch home.

His lips were drawn in a tight line of worry with the daunting task looming before him. He had been away for so long, he did not know how much further into ruin the old shrine had fallen, or how much work awaited him.

The old shrine used to be a mighty and magnificent structure to behold, a stopping point for travellers, a destination for pilgrims, a hub for scholars of all disciplines. But when it had been abandoned by its guardians a century ago, people began to say the shrine was cursed and the last priest had not been replaced after he retired.

Many have tried to restore the shrine before him. All of them were well-intentioned priests who knew that bringing the shrine back to life once again would no doubt revive the town as well, and so they always had the full support of the whole community.

But their efforts were always in vain, some of them running out of funds before the shrine was functional, others losing the faith of the community through the continued absence of guardians, which eventually reignited the rumours that the shrine was cursed. And so the shrine fell back into neglect and ruin, and the town returned to its sleepy anonymity.

In some ways, Yuuri felt that this task had been forced upon him. He had been drawn to the shrine since childhood, his parents eventually learning that he could be found in its vicinity whenever he went missing. But whenever he walked through the towering _torii_ gate of the shrine, a sense of sorrow or discontent would inevitably befall him. He would shed inexplicable tears, or else withdraw into a strange silence.

This remained a mystery until the Katsukis mentioned it to a close family friend, Okukawa Minako, who was the keeper of the town’s historical records and a descendent of the last priest. Her family’s lineage meant that she was wise and learned about many things, and had immediately understood the inexplicable sense of heaviness that he felt. Solemnly, she had told the family,

“It is the weight of duty that brings him sorrow. I believe Inari-sama has finally deemed someone worthy of restoring this shrine. I suggest that he should be sent to the capital to study when he is old enough, so that he may return to guide us in its restoration.”

It had been both a relief to find the answers to questions he had been unable to voice and a dread to realise the weight of his task. Since then, Minako-sensei had kept a close watch over Yuuri, tutoring him in the teachings of Shinto and exposing him to history, art and literature.

Then, at the age of fifteen, amidst his mother’s tears and his father’s worry, he was sent to the Fushimi Inari Taisha to be trained as a priest.

Now he returned, eight years later, with the title of Chozai, a level higher than was needed to assume the role of shrine keeper in a town. And yet, despite his master’s words, the path to fulfilling his task still remained hidden.

Yuuri shook his head and focused on the road. Simply because he could not see what laid ahead did not mean the path did not exist. It was not his place to worry about what the future would bring, that was in the hands of the _kami_. His duty was only in walking down the path underneath his feet. Those were the words he kept telling himself, and he wished he could believe them.

Suddenly, he was shaken from his pensive thoughts by the quick clopping of hooves ahead. Soon, he saw the outline of a horse in the distance and the familiar face of his mentor riding out to meet him, the wry smile and keen eyes a comforting sight after his long absence from home. She was dressed in loose-fitting riding robes, the dark blue patterned subtly with white sakura blossoms, her brownish hair tied loosely in a bun.

“Minako-sensei,” he called out, “What an unexpected treat. I was not expecting your company.”

“Your apprentice raced to the town and declared your return in the square. It was hard to miss your impending arrival,” she replied with a slight smirk, “The poor lad was worried you might be attacked by bandits without his presence. I had to stop him from riding his horse to death in his haste to return to you.”

“You are too kind, sensei,” replied Yuuri with a laugh, “My apprentice is overly concerned about my well being. I hope he did not cause too much trouble in town?”

Minako gave a curt laugh, “He already has half the town waiting for your arrival in the town square. If he’d had his way, you would be escorted home by a parade.”

Yuuri shook his head with a laugh, “Surely not! My return is no great news to anyone. I cannot bel-”

But his words were cut short by a knowing look in his sensei’s eyes. “The townspeople are waiting for you, Yuuri,” she said in complete seriousness, “They are eager for the restoration of the shrine and they believe you will be the one to succeed.”

Yuuri stared at her in disbelief, wanting to discount her words. But he knew that she spoke the truth. He could almost feel his soul being crushed by the weight of expectations and fear gripped his thumping heart tightly in its fist.

He looked away in distress, his gaze fixated on the road ahead, and they rode in silence for a stretch, his mentor still perfectly in-step with his moods.

When they reached the summit of the last hill that overlooked the town, they stopped a while to admire it from a distance.

It was a small town, but a beautiful one nonetheless, closely hugging the coastal lines, small houses lined neatly in pleasing rows, never far from the crashing waves and glimmering surface of the sea. He could hear the cry of gulls even from this distance, and realised he missed the constant caress of the salty breeze in his hair.

At the edge of the town, on slightly higher ground, he saw the bright red of the _torii_ gate and the tiled roofs of the shrine peeking through the green foliage of the sacred forest. At once, he was drawn to the shrine but also felt the urge to run away, and so he stood transfixed, staring at it with hope and dread.

After a brief silence, his mentor cleared her throat and said, “Your family has cleared a room in the shrine as makeshift accommodation for you. But they have also prepared your old room at the onsen.”

Yuuri nodded in acknowledgement, a surge of warmth rising at the thought of his family's silent support, suddenly feeling the deep need to see them again.

“Will you go to the shrine now?” asked his mentor in a careful voice.

“No,” he replied with a shake of his head, “I wish to avoid the crowds and the ride to the shrine will bring me directly in their path. I will go home.”

His mentor glared at him, looking as though she had something stern to say about his impolite evasion of the townspeople. But she relented with a huff, and asked instead,

“Do you have a plan for the shrine?”

Yuuri shook his head, gazing at the small town beneath their feet and the vast expanse of the glittering sea beyond.

He did not know how to tackle this gargantuan task. But tackle it he must. So, he urged his horse to take the path towards his hometown.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Yuuri headed towards the shrine in the grey light of dawn. The town laid in the stillness that came before the burst of morning activity, save for the fishermen who were readying their nets for the sea.

He wanted to make his way across the town without drawing the attention of its inhabitants, whom he knew he had disappointed yesterday. Minami reported that there had been a small gathering in the square awaiting his arrival, and the crowd had dispersed quickly when Minako returned alone. But the townspeople made their excitement apparent by sending endless gifts to the inn instead, attempting to make their appreciation known without intruding on Yuuri’s privacy. His mother had spent most of the day greeting their visitors at the door.

Perhaps he should have gone to them yesterday. But the thought of facing the eager faces and the great expectations they betrayed was too much for him to bear. He could almost see their anticipation for the shrine to suddenly burst into prosperity at his touch and for the town to be filled once again with the constant flow of travellers from years long past. They were already celebrating this future, but he was as yet unworthy of such celebrations and wanted to avoid them as much as he could.

Before he knew it, his feet had taken him down the familiar path to the shrine. He arrived at the towering _torii_ gate that framed the entrance, its vermillion now duller with the years that had passed, but still standing proudly among the verdant green of the sacred forest that enveloped the shrine.

Steep stone steps led from the gate to a long path above, beyond which were the many wooden buildings that laid just slightly out of sight. There were many cracks and chips on the steps and some were covered in patches of yellow-green moss, though thankfully none of them were beyond repair.

Yuuri approached the gate with reverence, then proceeded to clap his hands twice and bow deeply, silently asking Inari-sama to forgive his unworthiness and for permission to enter. Then, he crossed the gate and began to climb the stone stairs, feeling the weight of his task with each step he took.

The long _sando_ path, leading to the main hall of worship, was losing its battle against relentless weeds, which took every opportunity they could to peek through the gaps between the stone slabs.

On the right of the path was the _temizuya_ , where shrine goers could cleanse their hands and faces before approaching the shrine. Most of the wooden water dippers were broken, but the long water basins were still intact, nothing a little scrubbing wouldn’t cure.

Next to the _temizuya_ stood a large well, from which water could be drawn to fill the basins. The well seemed to be fairly well preserved. Its base was still covered in the ornate carvings of dragons and cranes that were encircled by voluminous clouds, telling the famous stories of Inari-sama. Above it was an emerald roof from which the water bucket used to hang, but where now only a frayed rope remained.

Yuuri continued slowly down the stone path, lifting his robes to avoid the pricklier weeds where he could. He carefully surveyed the courtyard as he walked, taking note of the various buildings in the distance that branched off from the main path. The administrative office, the _kagura-den_ stage for dance ceremonies, the main _haiden_ hall for worshipping, the smaller auxiliary shrines, the library, the priests’ quarters…

The shrine seemed to go on forever in all directions, endless structures nestled in lush green trees, all showing signs of glacial decay.

His mind struggled to comprehend how such a majestic shrine could have fallen into such desolation, but the decrepitude was unmistakable. Everywhere he turned, there were signs of abandon and neglect, which slowly added to the involuntary tally of things he needed to do in his mind.

He would have to write all of this down.

Yuuri carefully approached the _haiden_ , which was the main hall of worship and easily the most imposing building in the complex, almost obscuring the _honden_ hall behind it, which housed the spirit of Inari Ōkami, and was therefore out of bounds to the public.

A short flight of stairs led up to the wide entrance of the _haiden_ , framed by four large pillars of wood that were a dark mahogany, a stark contrast to the bright crimson of the Taisha in Kyoto. Fragile pieces of white cloth banners hung from the long wooden beam at the entrance, some bearing the shrine’s crest, some torn and worn thin, fluttering limply in the breeze.

Yuuri left clear prints in the thick dust on the ground behind him, as his falling footsteps echoed in the vast emptiness of the hall, a damp odor of decay filling his nose.

Tall wooden pillars supported the high rafters of the hall, above which he could hear the loud flapping of birds that had taken up residence in the woodwork overhead. The gentle light of dawn was streaming through the multitude of tears and holes in the paper screens that encircled the hall, illuminating the diffuse particles of dust in the air.

An assortment of bamboo blinds hung from the large wooden beams overhead, serving to divide the hall into smaller sections when needed. Some were untied and swaying aimlessly in the breeze, others leaving gaps where they had crumbled to the ground.

The hall was painfully dreary, the ground littered with various bits of paraphernalia for worship. Overturned offering tables, broken shelves, torn pieces of straw mats, ceremonial vessels that laid helplessly on their side, a fallen taiko drum lying beside its rotted stand... The decades of neglect and possibly the opportunistic intrusion of the local wild animals had left the place a wretched sight.

Yuuri suddenly felt a strange urge to tidy up the place and began picking up whatever bits of furniture he could find, but soon found himself walking around aimlessly with broken pieces of wood and eventually replacing them on the ground, not knowing how he should deal with them.

But he needed an outlet for this restless energy, and turned his attention to the smaller trinkets that were scattered on the floor, trying to identify items that could still be salvaged. His mission turned up all sorts of smaller objects that may still be useful, including small statuettes, various lanterns that only needed re-papering, metallic bells with intricate carvings of small animals, an odd collection of sticks for taiko drums...

As he rummaged through the detritus, carefully placing his finds on one of the sturdier tables, a small round object fell from a vase he was inspecting and clattered loudly onto the wooden floor. Yuuri bent over to pick it and polished it carefully with his sleeve.

It was pearly white and perfectly smooth, slightly bigger than the average pearl, about the size of a mochi. There was a small hole at the top, just wide enough to thread a string through, as though someone had previously worn it as an ornament. It was a pretty thing, understated and elegant, giving off a slight sheen in the light. It didn’t seem to fulfill any purpose in the shrine, but it was far too pleasing to throw away.

After inspecting the object for a few moments, Yuuri smiled to himself. It was just the right trinket to adorn the set of keys for the many locks in the shrine. With that thought, he retrieved the keys that he kept hidden in his robes, and slotted the pearl through the metal hoop, before tucking his keys back into his robes and resuming his unending task.

He was joined a few hours later by his apprentice, who was huffing and puffing from dashing up the stone stairs, his spiky sand-coloured hair sticking out in all directions, his white robes and loose blue trousers creased with wrinkles. The sun was already high in the sky and so the hour was entirely too late for a novice to report for duty, as he clearly knew. But the lad had a tiring day, what with the long journey and the excitement in town, so Yuuri didn’t begrudge him a few hours of rest.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri-sensei! Have you been here long?” asked Minami, still gasping for air, his voice still cracking from fatigue.

“Not very,” said Yuuri with a kind smile. “Where do you think we should start, Minami-kun?”

Minami blinked and gazed around the neglected courtyard with sleepy eyes, as clueless as Yuuri. Then, he pointed to a small building on the far side of the courtyard, which Yuuri recognised as the small tea-house that was used to host important guests.

It was as good a place to start as any. In fact, if they manage to clean it before sundown, they would at least have a comfortable place to enjoy a nice pot of tea before the day was over.

He shrugged the bag off his shoulders, from which he retrieved two aprons to protect their clothes and two kerchiefs to cover their faces. He handed these to Minami, along with a broom and a few rags.

Then, with a warm but determined smile, he said,

“Let’s begin.”

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Any and all comments welcomed.  
> Come chat on tumblr! [Weberina](http://weberina.tumblr.com/) & [Amarok](http://amarokster.tumblr.com/)  
> Link to art [here](http://amarokster.tumblr.com/post/174979395248/art-1-for-the-viktuuri-reverse-bang).


	2. Ha 破 (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the second chapter (*＾＾*)  
> As usual beta'd by my wonderful sister and the lovely Sheilatakesabow <3 <3 thank you so much for your help T_T

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Ha 破 (1)

 

Yuuri slowly picked his way through town, greeting the early risers as they went about their business in the first light of dawn, politely declining the kind offers of breakfast from the food sellers and stopping for a brief chat with the tofu-seller to ask after his wife’s recent illness. 

Then, as his footsteps took him further from the bustling centre of the town, the rows of streets and buildings gave way to a maze of trees, their dense leaves the rich green of summer, rustling to the sound of chirping birds in their branches and the echoing of Yuuri’s wooden _ geta _ clogs against the stone path that led to the shrine. 

The deeper his footsteps took him into the serenity of the sacred forest, the more he allowed the mask of calm geniality to fall from his face, revealing the lines of concern and worry only to the isolation of the forest.

The truth was, not all was well with the restoration of the shrine. 

It has been a month since they returned to Hasetsu, and no sooner had their work begun than a string of minor disruptions followed, relentlessly dogging their every step. 

It had begun in a harmless and innocuous way. Small disturbances that interrupted their work in the  _ haiden, _ the main hall of worship. Little things that were annoying but ultimately inconsequential. 

Like when they had sorted through the furniture and implements in the  _ haiden _ , neatly stacking up the ones that were rotten beyond salvage near the entrance, along with all the bamboo blinds and banners that were torn and threadbare, which were all to be removed by a few workmen from the town. But they had returned the next morning to find that everything had been unstacked, unrolled and carelessly scattered across the hall, some of the more fragile pieces falling easily to pieces with the obvious rough handling.

Even the lengthy, hefty cabinet that used to serve as a discreet storage space for the smaller offering trays and mats had somehow been overturned, smashing its brittle doors even further. This was no mean feat, considering that it had taken them nearly half and hour the previous day to move it from the far end of the hall, and Minami had nearly burst into tears at the thought of having to lift it again. 

Or when they had retrieved every piece of implement for various rituals that were tucked away in the musty old storeroom hidden in a corner of the  _ haiden _ , lining them up carefully on the newly scrubbed wooden floor to take inventory and air out the lingering staleness. Only to find, to their absolute horror, when they returned the next day that their attentive efforts had all been in vain. 

The straight lines of  _ sandō _ offering trays were haphazardly strewn across the floor, the square wooden tops carelessly detached from the squat three-holed bases. Rows of narrow  _ An _ offering tables of varying sizes were knocked to their sides, their spindly legs pointing in all directions. Worst of all, the delicate musical instruments that they had reverentially, almost fearfully, cleaned, tuned and polished had been recklessly manhandled. Yuuri’s heart nearly stopped at the painful sight of snapped strings curling at the edges of an especially fragile  _ koto _ zither and could only make choking sounds of despair as he picked up the broken pieces of several precious  _ shinobue _ flutes, barely conscious as Minami helped him to a sitting mat. 

Several incidents of similar ilk occurred one after the other, causing minor setbacks at every turn, seeming almost like a sentient and intentional plot to frustrate their plans. It wasn’t long before Minami’s excitable nature meant that he was a bundle of jittery nerves, convinced that someone or something was out to sabotage them. 

It was all Yuuri could do to calm him down by offering the entirely plausible explanation that this was all the work of the local wild animals, who were emboldened by the absence of humans for many decades and still held a claim over the shrine. 

The random foraging of these animals, possibly the clan of tanukis in the surrounding sacred forest, only seemed like a deliberate sabotage because their accidental disruptions were only noticed when they interrupted the work on the shrine. Yuuri was sure that the same disruptions were also happening in other buildings, but mostly went unnoticed because their current restoration work was only limited to the  _ haiden _ and the courtyard.

However, the problem only worsened when they began bringing in craftsmen from the town to repair the building structure or replace the decayed furniture. Many of them had set up temporary work stations in the hall, even the furniture makers, since Yuuri had been reluctant to let them remove anything from the shrine as samples for their work and so they had to work in the shrine itself.

They soon began complaining that someone or something had been rummaging through their cherished toolboxes, the utmost intrusion upon a craftsman’s privacy. Or that lacquered wood pieces they had left out to dry would have odd smudges on the surface the next morning, setting them back another day's work. 

Gradually, rumours began to fly that the shrine was haunted, that they had somehow offended a spirit, who now wanted to impede their work on the shrine. A fair number of craftsmen were so spooked that they withdrew to the comforts of their own workshops and worked from sketches they had jotted down, or even from their own memory, as they were absolutely adamant not to step foot in the shrine again. This inevitably led to a general sense of disquiet among the townspeople, as more and more of them began to believe the rumors. 

Yuuri did his best to reassure everyone that this was not the case, but no one seemed inclined to accept his theory about the wild animals, preferring instead to smile politely at him and resume their gossiping when his back was turned. The rumours only reached him by way of Minami or his family, since no one would have the audacity to contradict him directly in public.  

By the time the children began reciting a rhyme about a haunted shrine in Hasetsu, Yuuri decided to bow to public pressure and perform his first ritual of purification around the shrine, chanting as vigorously as he could while sprinkling the ground with handfuls of salt. The most potent ritual he could think of. 

But when his efforts failed to curtail the constant interruptions, it lent more weight to the rumours, and people began to believe the spirit was so powerful that even their priest was unable to defeat it. Some of them even travelled to neighbouring towns to buy protection amulets to safeguard their homes. 

As the situation slowly spiralled out of his control, Yuuri himself began suspecting that the shrine was haunted. It was one thing when the incidents occurred in the spacious  _ haiden _ , where animals could come and go as they pleased with the screen doors left open. 

It was another when these disruptions followed them to the  _ shamusho _ , the shrine’s administrative office, with its narrow corridors and tight spaces, enough to make any sensible animal feel trapped and anxious.

Their paperwork had grown steadily as they hired more and more workers to work on the shrine. When their temporary shelter in the onsen’s office began to encroach upon Mari nee-chan’s impeccable bookkeeping, they were unceremoniously turned out of the office, which in turn necessitated their hasty retreat to the shrine. 

After two days of endless cleaning, they managed to clear out the old office of the head priest, which had previously been stuffed with boxes and boxes of unsold wooden, paper and cloth amulets and talismans, most of which were now unusable, alongside towering stacks of bound and unbound financial records of the shrine. 

No sooner had a functional office been set up than the familiar disruptions soon returned. Papers were unsorted, drawers were rummaged, shelves were disturbed. It was almost as though someone was hastily looking for something. 

Given the unlikeliness that an animal would willingly enter this enclosed space, Yuuri had to reluctantly concede that a sentient being, human or otherwise, may be attempting either to upset their efforts or to fulfill a purpose known only to them. The thought caused both him and Minami to feel a shudder of unease.

Which was why yesterday had been the first night since his return to Hasetsu that Yuuri had felt the need to lock up the door to the head priest’s office, as a protection to put their minds at ease. 

Not many houses had locks in a small town like Hasetsu. Not even the shops had them, save for the goldsmiths and jewellers. What is more, no one in this town or even the next could conceive of stealing from a shrine, lest they incurred the wrath of the  _ kami _ . 

The only reason a priest would lock up any door in the shrine was due entirely to the possible presence of priceless relics, like the ancient tomes in their library. Or, in the case of an especially avaricious head priest in the past, due to the hoarding of countless treasures, which made him terrified of being robbed.

Yuuri made sure to keep the keys to the shrine close to him at all times, even when he went to bed. But this only served as a constant reminder of his responsibility as the caretaker of the shrine, nothing more. 

So, it had felt oddly uncomfortable last night, when he had retrieved the keys hidden within the folds of his robes and heard the metallic click as the lock snapped into place, going against his long years of habit.

"Sensei!" 

Yuuri shook himself out of his thoughts and realised he was at the vermillion  _ torii _ gate of the shrine. 

He quickly directed his gaze towards Minami’s anxious voice coming from the top of the stone steps. His apprentice had left the onsen a full hour before him this morning, which was an admirable achievement for a night owl like Minami.

“Sensei, come quickly,” shouted Minami, “It has happened again. But much worse this time!” Then, he turned abruptly away and hurried towards the shrine. 

Upon hearing his agitated words, Yuuri hastened up the stairs, equally anxious to witness what new intrigue Minami had found this morning. 

Did their nightly intruder strike again? Did it do something worse than just break things and spook the locals? If so, how much worse? Yuuri’s imagination began to run wild with the dreadful possibilities, all the while hoping that none of them would materialise.

Why now? What had they done to provoke it?

Then, Yuuri felt a sudden chill in his spine. Could it be…? 

The only thing that he had done differently was to lock the  _ shamusho _ last night. Could it be that this simple act had provoked an unexpected consequence, something serious enough to send Minami into a state of alarm, sheer panic apparent in his voice as he turned back once again to urge Yuuri, “Hurry, sensei!”

Why had his simple act of locking one door in the shrine provoke any sort of reaction from the intruder? Was it annoyed at being kept out? Was it trying to send a message?  

He felt the weight of this conundrum pressing on his chest and the pace of his heart quickened as he followed Minami’s frantic footsteps towards the  _ shamusho _ , wondering what he might find.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

They stood at the entrance to the head priest’s office, as Yuuri gawped at the state it was in. 

The screen door had been forced open, almost wrenched from its frame, and the rest of the office looked like a typhoon had passed through it, with papers and books littering every surface, drawers yanked from their slots and thrown on the ground, paintings askew, boxes of usable talismans emptied haphazardly on the floor, the small sacks of salt used for purification rites had been opened and scattered everywhere. Even one of Minami’s precious bonsai trees had been knocked off its platform, its small branches now devoid of leaves. 

This did not feel like the random actions of an animal that had wandered by accident into civilization. This felt like a deliberate and malicious attempt to warn him off or to stop his progress, and he could not stop his gaze from travelling back to the splintered sides of the screen door, wondering what evil spirit he had awoken, or perhaps a benign spirit they had somehow angered. 

In any case, it seemed that the spirit had been especially agitated by their futile attempts to keep it out, and had redoubled its efforts in making their lives more difficult. 

Yuuri surveyed the wreckage one more time, then forced himself to swallow the growing lump of fear in his throat, as he turned to Minami with a calm look on his face. 

“We will clean up this mess,” he said in a cautiously even tone, “Then we will come up with a plan to deal with this.”

Minami gave him a worried glance and nodded, before taking wary steps into the office, eyes darting back and forth as he did so. 

They worked in tense silence, sorting through the papers as quickly as they could, neither of them sure whether the entity was still watching them as they restored the office to its original form. Minami barely dared to show a hint of resentment as he gingerly gathered up the remains of his bonsai and its shattered pot. 

However, when Minami moved to sweep up the scattered salt from the wooden floor, Yuuri was suddenly struck by an idea. He gently touched Minami on the arm and shook his head slightly, silently indicating that they should leave the salt on the floor. Then, he proceeded to scatter the remaining salt where the dark wooden floor could still be seen and slowly backed out of the room, avoiding the salt where he could. 

Minami followed his lead and when they were both in the corridor, Yuuri slid the screen door shut and attempted to saunter away with an air of nonchalance. 

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

The four members of the Katsuki family sat around the table, quietly sipping their tea as they pondered the events of the day. Yuuri had recalled their encounters over dinner, with Minami supplying more details with great animation, while his family listened wide-eyed to their account. 

Now, they were silently contemplating the meaning behind these odd events and Yuuri could see from the concern written in their faces that they too believed something supernatural was most certainly involved. 

Eventually, Mari looked up from her steaming cup and ventured, “Why did you leave the salt on the ground?”

“I wanted to see whether the spirit would leave tracks on the floor,” Yuuri replied, trying to keep his voice casual, “And whether it had a… physical form.”

A look of understanding passed through the faces of his family and his father nodded sagely. 

Everyone knew that spirits who needed to take a corporeal form were usually more benign than those who didn’t. Or at the very least, their limitations were greater due to the constraints of the physical realm. 

And if the tracks they left were animal, then that was even more good news, since these incidents were more likely to be mischievous pranks than malicious schemes. 

If they were not...well, Yuuri preferred not to think about that scenario just yet.

“What do you plan to do next?” asked his father in his usual serene voice, as he gently placed his cup back on the table. 

Minami’s ears pricked up immediately and Yuuri could feel the intense stare emanating from his apprentice, who was no doubt waiting with bated breath at Yuuri’s response, almost like a warrior on the eve of battle. 

“We will...observe the tracks tomorrow,” replied Yuuri cautiously, stealing a side glance at his apprentice to check if his words might make the lad explode with anticipation.

“ _ If _ all is well,” he added after some consideration, taking care not to mention that if they found something malicious, they might have to burn down the shrine to purify the site. “We will spend the night at the  _ shamusho _ to see if it is possible to accost our visitor.”

Minami nodded vigorously to indicate his assent to the plan. But Yuuri saw the looks of quiet concern on the faces on his family.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

They returned to the  _ shamusho _ at the crack of dawn the next day, while Yuuri tried to rein in his over-excited apprentice. 

Thankfully, the door was still intact and was only slightly ajar to indicate that someone had disturbed the office at all last night. They pushed open the screen door and a small gasp escaped Minami’’s lips.

On the floor were dozens of criss-crossing paw prints that were definitely animal in origin. The tracks showed that the animal had circled the room a few times, possibly stopping to rifle through a few shelves or drawers, and then exiting the room, leaving nothing much amiss, except for its usual level of disruption. 

Yuuri couldn’t help the audible sigh of relief that passed through his lips. They were most likely dealing with a spirit animal of some sort, if anything at all, and though it was difficult to keep up with their antics, they rarely had hostile intentions. It seemed that locking the door had triggered a panic attack that had sent it into the frenzy they witnessed two nights ago. 

Yuuri paused briefly to consider his next move, then promptly turned towards Minami.

“Please go into town and ask for the gamekeeper. And ask for the woodworker, Tsuchida-san. He will need to bring his lockmaking tools.” 

Just as Minami turned to leave, he added, “Please let them know that their presence here is requested with the utmost urgency.”

Minami nodded gravely and began running towards the town. 

Both the gamekeeper and woodworker returned with Minami within the hour. Upon their arrival, Yuuri immediately put Tsuchida-san to work on repairing the lock on the screen door. Whereas he and the town’s only gamekeeper turned their attention towards the tracks on the floor. 

“What do you think, Takeshi-san?” Yuuri asked, as Takeshi straightened his back after his brief examination. 

“Fox, definitely fox,” replied Takeshi with certainty, “Has it been causing the disturbances in the shrine?”

“I believe so,” said Yuuri with a nod. 

“Does this mean there’s a _ kitsune  _ spirit interested in the shrine?” asked Takeshi with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Yuuri avoided Takeshi’s intent gaze and shook his head slightly. “I do not know what this means. It may want something that is entirely unrelated.” Then, Yuuri cleared his throat and asked, “Is it possible to trap it?”

Takeshi frowned slightly at Yuuri’s question but considered it nonetheless. After a while, he said slowly, “Yes, we can trap it. It will be much more cunning than the usual fox, so I will bring the larger trap.” 

“Will that work?” asked Yuuri cautiously.

“It might,” said Takeshi with a shrug, then grinning, he added, “And we will need an irresistible bait. My wife’s honey-coated chicken should do the trick.”

Yuuri gave a small laugh. Yuuko’s cooking was well-known in these parts, even the most prudent of  _ kitsune _ would not be able to resist such a sweet and meaty treat. 

Yuuri swept his gaze around the floor, their own footsteps now intermingled with the paw prints of the  _ kitsune.  _

Tonight, they will distress it with the locked door once again, and entice it with the best cooking in town. Then, they will finally find out the true intentions of this disturber of the peace. 

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Yuuri could hear the distant clanging of a gong coming from the centre of town, indicating the hour of the night. His eyes fluttered open and he shifted slightly on the sitting mat. Beside him Minami was sprawled on the ground and snoring lightly, the sight of which caused Yuuri to chuckle to himself. 

The poor lad had tried his best to stay awake, kneeling in the same meditative stance as Yuuri did. But it didn’t take long before he had keeled over sideways and curled into a dozing ball.

It was three hours before dawn and Yuuri had kept himself alert throughout the night by going into deep meditation, his body utterly relaxed but his mind kept sharply alert to any changes in his surrounding. It was a skill in discipline that had taken many years to master, and Minami still had a long way to go. 

Despite his vigilant watch in the adjacent room, however, there had been an absolute absence of activity in the head priest’s office during the night, and Yuuri began contemplating the thought that they would not catch their unwanted visitor tonight. 

Just as he moved to stretch his legs slightly after kneeling for so long, his entire body froze at a muted sound, barely audible, coming from the corridor. It was the sound of small feet treading lightly on the wooden floor, followed by a small scratching sound, as though something was testing the integrity of the screen door. 

The scratching became louder and more agitated, which Yuuri took to mean that the  _ kitsune  _ had realised the screen door was locked. Then, the scratching stopped altogether, and was quickly followed by a muffled thud on the floor. Yuuri’s eyes widened in realization and he reached over to shake Minami from his sleep, placing a hand over the lad’s mouth to prevent him from making too much noise. 

Just as Yuuri had expected, he heard the sounds of heavier footsteps in the corridor, which implied that the  _ kitsune _ had probably transformed itself into a human to deal with the locked door. There was another brief silence and then came a loud cracking sound, which finally startled Minami into wakefulness, his cries of surprise smothered by Yuuri’s hand. 

He gave Yuuri a stricken look, only settling down when he saw Yuuri had one finger pressed against his lips, trying to convey that silence was absolutely critical. Minami sat up as quietly as he could and the both of them listened intently to the sounds coming from the adjacent room. 

They heard the sounds of light footsteps thudding on the wooden floor as the  _ kitsune _ walked around the office and rummaged through the shelves and drawers. Then, the shuffling of loose papers stopped abruptly and they heard the sounds of sniffing. The thudding of footsteps was replaced by the lighter scampering of paws, and the sniffing intensified. Minami practically had his ears pressed against the wall as he listened intently for the anticipated sound. 

There it was. The sound of contented chewing and… a loud snap. 

Minami bolted into the office, with Yuuri close behind. Loud, frantic yipping filled the air between desperate gnawing at the bars of the bamboo cage. 

The trapped animal let out a terrified yip at their approach and cowered in the back of the cage.

Yuuri held out an arm to stop Minami from rushing forward and frightening the animal further, as he began to take small, cautious steps towards the cage.

“I mean you no harm,  _ kitsune-san, _ ” Yuuri called out in a friendly voice, gradually lowering himself beside the cage. “I only want to know why you are here and why you have been causing trouble in my shrine.”

The fox stopped its sad whimpering in the back of the cage and slowly walked toward Yuuri, eyeing him warily through the bars.

“I wish to speak with you,” continued Yuuri in an careful tone, “So if I let you out, will you agree not to run away?”

The fox cocked its head to one side, seeming to mull over Yuuri’s words. Then it let out a small bark, which Yuuri took to mean its assent. He carefully undid the trap as Takeshi had instructed and took two steps back as the  _ kitsune  _ stepped out of the cage.

Its fur was a gleaming silver that almost shone under the moonlight and its long bushy tail was held low with wariness, as it cast a nervous glance at the two humans with its mesmerising blue-green eyes.

“Can we talk?” asked Yuuri again, gesturing towards his desk. 

The  _ kitsune  _ hesitated for a moment, surveying his surroundings once again for other potential dangers, before strutting to one side of the desk and folding itself primly on the floor. 

Yuuri followed suit and just as he was kneeling down at his side of the table, he heard a small whooshing sound, accompanied by a gust of wind. All of a sudden, there sat before him a tall young man, dressed in an elaborate kimono of sky blue, embroidered with opulent flowers of silver and gold, his sweeping sleeves fanning out in a neat half-moon around his knees. His hair was the same silvery sheen as the  _ kitsune,  _ his eyes the same enchanting opal, and he fixed Yuuri with the curious but cautious look of a fox.

He sat waiting for Yuuri to speak, his gaze never wavering from its keen intensity, but his silence seemed to demand an explanation from Yuuri for the indignity he had endured. 

Yuuri felt his calm exterior splintering under the acute gaze of the _ kitsune _ , and gave a nervous cough to clear his throat, as he tried his best not to fumble his words.

“Who are you?” he asked, managing to keep his voice even.

The  _ kitsune  _ stared at him a little longer, his eyes betraying his continued wariness of Yuuri, as he replied in a silky voice,

“My name is Viktor and I am a  _ kitsune _ in-training under the service of Inari Okami. I have been sent here because there were rumours of a shrine being restored in this area.”

Yuuri’s pulse skipped a beat at those words. He gave a quick glance at Minami, who was staring at the young man with widened eyes, and he knew that they were both thinking the same thought. This wasn’t just any  _ kitsune,  _ but one appointed by Inari-sama who was showing some interest in their shrine, and he was right before their very noses. 

Did they dare to hope that he would stay? Perhaps they had somehow hindered his task, which would explain his constant disruptions in the shrine, and Yuuri quickly offered, 

“We are honored to have your presence here. Is there any way we could assist you in your task,  _ kitsune-sama _ ?”

“Perhaps,” replied the  _ kitsune  _ slowly, suspicion deepening in its eyes, “I was instructed to observe the restoration and report whether the shrine might be worthy of its guardians in the future. But I was due to return nearly two weeks ago.” He gave Yuuri an accusatory look, as if blaming Yuuri for the delay in his return. 

Yuuri returned the glare with slight confusion, completely unaware of anything they had done to cause this delay.

“Then, would  _ kitsune-sama _ please explain his continued presence in our shrine,” ventured Yuuri cautiously, “And perhaps also explain why he has been interrupting our work…?”

A flash of indignation appeared in the  _ kitsune’s _ eyes, and in an offended voice, he said, “I could ask the same question of you, master priest. I am unable to complete my task because you have taken my  _ hoshi-no-tama _ and without it I am unable to return to Inari-sama.” 

Yuuri stared at the  _ kitsune _ in open-mouthed incredulity. “Your  _ hoshi-no-tama _ ?” he repeated with a blank look, bewildered that a  _ kitsune _ would accuse him of stealing its most prized possession. 

Yuuri had never seen one before, but it was said that a  _ hoshi-no-tama _ was a ball of blue fire that glowed with haunting brilliance, and contained the  _ kitsune’s _ magical powers, even its soul. A  _ kitsune _ cannot be too far away from its  _ hoshi-no-tama _ for too long, or it may die, and humans who have chanced upon one have often used it to bargain for favours in exchange for its return. 

“I’m afraid,  _ kitsune-sama _ , there must be a mistake,” Yuuri replied in a dry voice, putting every ounce of sincerity he could into his voice, “We have not come across anything of such importance in our work. And if we have, I swear to you that we would have returned it immediately.”

The  _ kitsune _ cast him a long, suspicious look, as if debating whether or not to believe in Yuuri’s plea. But soon, he pressed his lips into a thin line of resolution. 

“I have searched everywhere in this shrine for many weeks and have yet to find any trace of it,” he replied firmly, “And since you were the first person to set foot in these grounds the morning after it was lost, I began to suspect that you were in possession of it. My suspicions were confirmed when, a mere two nights ago, you locked the door to your office. What other conclusion would you have me draw, other than that you have now found a secure place to hide my  _ tama  _ in your office? Have you asked the woodworkers to build a secret compartment to hide it?”

At this, the  _ kitsune _ began eyeing every nook and cranny with deep mistrust, as though he was trying to force the room to give up its secrets with his glare. 

“Please believe me,  _ kitsune-sama _ ,” pleaded Yuuri sincerely, “We do not have your treasure, nor have we hidden it in this office. My only intention behind locking the door was to keep out an intruder we believed to be plaguing the shrine. We-”

The  _ kitsune _ turned his keen attention back to Yuuri, cutting off Yuuri’s plea.

“Do not play games with me, master priest,” he said testily, “No one else has come forward to bargain with me for the return of my treasure, and now you have trapped me. I am fully aware of your intentions.”

Then, he straightened his back in defiance, as though bracing himself to face the worst ahead. “I have allowed myself to be caught. So, you may state your terms for the return of my  _ hoshi-no-tama _ .”” he said resolutely, though with a slight blush on the tip of his nose that betrayed his slight embarrassment.

Yuuri’s mind raced to recall any incident that may have led to this grave misunderstanding, but none came to mind. Surely, no one else would dare anger a  _ kitsune _ by hiding its treasure, it would doom the revival of the shrine and he could not think of anyone who would wish for such a thing.

“I have no terms,  _ kitsune-sama _ ,” Yuuri replied in desperation, “If I had your  _ hoshi-no-tama _ , it would already be safely in your hands. But truly none of us has seen it, and so I cannot name any term that would help your cause.” 

The  _ kitsune  _ frowned with annoyance. “I tire of this, master priest,” he said impatiently, “Is it marriage that you demand? For is that not what mortals often ask for when they hold a kitsune's  _ tama _ hostage?”

Yuuri recoiled in horror, completely taken aback by the suggestion, as a flustered jumble of words escaped his lips. “I- wha-? No! Absolutely, absolutely not. This- I-”

Seeming more annoyed at Yuuri’s incoherence, the  _ kitsune _ snapped his attention towards Minami, who had been rooted to the spot as he stared at their exchange in bewilderment, and jumped at the  _ kitsune’s  _ piercing look. 

“If the master refuses to answer,” stated the  _ kitsune _ in a huff of indignation, “Then, apprentice, tell me for what purpose would your master trap a kitsune?”

Minami looked on in stunned silence, then blurted out in a panic, “To- to restore this shrine?”

The _ kitsune _ gave him a small nod and returned his gaze towards Yuuri. 

“Very well, I will help you to restore the shrine,” stated the  _ kitsune _ in a final tone, “And when I have done so, I expect you to honour your agreement and return my  _ hoshi-no-tama _ .”

Yuuri stared wordlessly at the adamant figure before him, though the  _ kitsune’s _ resolute expression was laced with a hint of hurt pride. Yuuri opened his mouth, wanting to defend his innocence once again, trying to find the right words that would convince the  _ kitsune _ otherwise. 

But the stubborn set of the  _ kitsune’s _ lips and the steely glint in his eyes were clear signs that the  _ kitsune  _ was immovable in his conclusion. Anything Yuuri said would be futile and Yuuri suspected his words may cause further offense to an already irate  _ kitsune _ . 

He cast another quick glance at the stricken Minami, who clearly was torn between his eagerness for the  _ kitsune _ ’s presence and his indignation over its accusations. Yuuri himself felt a heavy struggle in his heart, a thousand problems lurked in his mind. 

There was no doubt that accepting the  _ kitsune’s _ offer would be a great boon to their work. But they would not be able to fulfill their end of the bargain once the restoration was complete. What then would they say to the  _ kitsune? _ Wouldn’t their shrine be cursed for eternity? Besides, the  _ kitsune _ had said that it had yet to complete its training, and Yuuri had a nagging feeling this fact should be of greater significance. Furthermore, who would the shrine turn to when the  _ kitsune _ left?

He returned his gaze to the  _ kitsune _ , its eyes shimmering with an opalescent resolution. 

And suddenly, Yuuri was struck by the thought that even if he turned down the  _ kitsune’s _ offer, he still could not return to Inari-sama, not until his treasure has been found, and a  _ kitsune _ without his  _ hoshi-no-tama _ could be vulnerable to mortals. 

Perhaps if it remained here, Yuuri could offer some protection to the  _ kitsune _ , and maybe the  _ kitsune _ would eventually be convinced that Yuuri did not have his treasure. In fact, they could continue looking for it together without destroying the shrine in the process, and they may come across it in some forgotten crevice. 

He lingered over this weighty decision, carefully mulling over his next words. Then, having come to the lesser of two evils, he gave a deep bow as he said, 

“If it is your intention to offer your aid in the restoration of this shrine,  _ kitsune-sama _ , then we humbly accept it with great honor. In return, we promise to devote all our energy to finding your treasure and we will return it immediately.”

The  _ kitsune _ gave him a questioning glance, clearly struggling over whether to believe in Yuuri’s words. 

After a brief silence, the  _ kitsune  _ nodded his head, “I agree to your terms, master priest.”

Yuuri gave another deep bow, trying to hide the mess of emotions that were threatening to surface, his heart thumping so wildly that he was surprised no one else could hear it. 

The shrine now had a  _ kitsune _ , but not under conditions that Yuuri had imagined. A misunderstanding, an accusation, and a solitary  _ kitsune _ that was still in training, with a promise he could not fulfill to boot. 

How had he dragged the shrine into such a mess? 

As his forehead inadvertently touched the polished surface of his desk in his overly excessive bow, Yuuri prayed silently that his decision would not bring calamity to the shrine. 

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Any and all comments welcomed.  
> Come chat on tumblr! [Weberina](http://weberina.tumblr.com/) & [Amarok](http://amarokster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> In case anyone's interested, the chapter titles refer to a common concept in Japanese traditional arts known as Jo-ha-kyū (序破急). In brief, Jo is the slow and auspicious beginning; Ha is usually split into three parts and is the build-up of tension; Kyū is the rapid resolution. I thought it might be interesting to follow this structure! (*＾ワ＾*）


	3. Ha 破 (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Here's the third chapter :) It's quite a long one though....  
> Very thoroughly beta'd by my wonderful sister and the lovely Sheilatakesabow <3 <3 Couldn't have done it without you guys!!  
> Hope you enjoy where the story leads (*＾＾*)
> 
> Art by the amazing Amarok! On which the story is based :D

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Ha 破 (2)

 

The sun was high in the sky, casting its unforgiving glare in the height of summer.

But the tea house was hidden within a grove of trees, sheltered by the mottled shade of velvety green leaves. Both screen doors were thrown open, allowing the occasional breeze to sweep away the oppressive heat, filling the air with the gentle tinkling of wind chimes.

Yuuri was kneeling on the _tatami_ mat of the tea house, absorbed in the task of cleaning the delicate tea utensils that were laid in a neat row before him, and carefully replacing them within the safety of silk cloths in the compartments of a large lacquered box.

It was hard to believe that they were preparing the tea house to receive their first important guest, and Yuuri’s eyes kept wandering towards the letter by his old master, wondering if it was too soon to host such a visit.

But he knew they were ready. The arrival of the _kitsune_ had quickly changed everything. What should have taken months had taken weeks, and the preparations for their first inspection that should have taken at least a year had taken less than half the time.

Yuuri suddenly paused in his work, a small frown forming between his brows, as he once again tried to decipher how Viktor’s presence had brought about such speedy progress.

It was not that Viktor was especially helpful in a practical way. He seemed to be confounded even by the simplest tasks.

No, it was certainly not his practical prowess, but something else. Something more intangible.

Viktor had been extremely wary of everyone in the beginning, refusing to speak much as he eyed anyone who approached him with distrust, even sniffing the food he was offered, perhaps to check if it was poisoned.

Naturally, his greatest suspicion had been reserved for Yuuri, and Yuuri had been constantly under the keen surveillance of those piercing blue-green eyes. In fact, the _kitsune_ would never let Yuuri out of his sight and followed Yuuri everywhere.

It quickly became a familiar occurrence to see the _kitsune_ tailing behind Yuuri as he went about his business in town. From the moment they emerged from the Katsuki onsen, to their trek through town to reach the shrine, to their daily afternoon tea with Minako-sensei, to every stall and shop that Yuuri stopped at to order supplies or check on the progress of his orders, Viktor was like a shadow that never left Yuuri’s side.

But as the weeks passed by, the _kitsune_ had slowly let his guard down. Perhaps because he gradually came to understand from his daily interactions that this was a simple town, filled with honest and trustworthy people, who were horrified at the thought of someone stealing a _kitsune’s_ treasure and were outraged on his behalf.

Perhaps from his close scrutiny of Yuuri himself and the Katsuki family, he had also come to realise that Yuuri was not someone who would deliberately hold a _kitsune_ hostage. Not just because it may doom the restoration of the shrine, but also because it was not in his nature and was certainly not how he was brought up to behave. His mother would never have allowed such a thing under her roof.

Though Yuuri suspected it was also, in no small part, due to the official announcement that the Hasetsu shrine had issued, asking for the return of the _hoshi-no-tama_ should anyone chance upon it in exchange for a handsome reward, and warning that anyone who tried to bargain for favours using the _tama_ will be thrown in prison and cursed by the gods. Viktor had been particularly impressed by the vivid details on the curses that would befall the perpetrator.

As Viktor grew to trust the people around him, his stolid mask of wariness began to slip away. To Yuuri’s great surprise, it revealed an exuberant bundle of pure energy underneath, a flamboyant character whose liveliness now matched the vibrant colours of opulent robes he seemed to pluck out of thin air.

Viktor’s brilliant smile was like a burst of sunshine in the sleepy town. He had a way of talking that put even the most stoic of elders sufficiently at ease to laugh and joke with him. Children loved him, mothers doted on him. No one could stay sullen for long in his presence. And perhaps by sheer proximity, Viktor somehow drew Yuuri closer to the townspeople.

Where once Yuuri commanded only respectful bows and polite greetings due to his status as a priest, he was now met with cheerful smiles and friendly chatter, allowing him to be brought fully into the fold of the community. And where Viktor had opened the flow of communication, Yuuri could follow quickly by remembering every detail of the townspeople’s lives, inquiring after their wellbeing in his unassuming manner, and offering his help where he could. It was a skill that the _kitsune_ seemed to lack, given his sieve-like memory for anything more specific than a name. It was not hard to see how he had misplaced his _hoshi-no-tama_ in the first place.

But more importantly, Viktor had a particularly strong effect on the work in the shrine. The workers had returned not long after Viktor’s arrival, their minds set at ease after learning that the disruptions were merely the pranks of a _kitsune_ , and not the work of a malicious spirit. They delved into their tasks with renewed gusto, seeming now to be much more convinced that the restoration of the shrine would succeed, and therefore were eager for their names to appear alongside its success.

It also helped tremendously that Viktor was a constant source of entertainment in the shrine. His skill with the _koto_ zither, _shinobue_ flute and taiko drums, along with his wide repertoire of songs and his willingness to indulge in the bawdier tunes kept the workers’ spirits high, as they laughed and sang along, sometimes calling out requests for their favourite pieces.

In fact, their work had progressed at such a brisk pace that the _haiden_ hall of worship and the courtyard were ready in time to hold the biannual _Oharae-shiki_ purification ritual by the end of the sixth month.

Yuuri could hardly believe it as he led the townspeople through large _chinowa_ rings made of grass reeds that lined the path to the shrine, which were meant to cleanse the people of sins committed in the first half of the year and protect them from misfortune.

It was an unimaginable triumph for the shrine, and Yuuri was more than thankful for the presence of the _kitsune_ , who had brushed off all expressions of gratitude with a playful wink, saying that he had an ulterior motive after all.

And now, months before he thought it was possible, the shrine was partially functional, a place where worshippers were at least able to pray at the _haiden_ and purchase amulets from the _shamusho_ . And worshippers did come every day, some to show their support for Yuuri, some drawn by the allure of the _kitsune_ , and they slowly brought the bustle of life back to the Hasetsu shrine. It was sufficient to show that the shrine was ready to receive the first inspection by the master of the Fushimi Inari Taisha.

Yuuri knew this would not have been possible without Viktor, and he was truly beginning to understand just how necessary the _kitsune_ guardians were to a shrine.

Joyful laughter pealed across the courtyard and down the quiet path leading to the tea house. Yuuri lifted his head and caught sight of Viktor between the trees with Minami by his side. He was carrying a tray, on which sat a valuable clay teapot and a set of matching cups that Yuuri had asked them to retrieve from the shrine’s office. Viktor’s lips were spread into a wide grin, perhaps at something amusing that Minami had quipped, his light blue summer robes flowing around him as his wooden sandals clacked against the stone path.

Yuuri smiled at the sight, his heart filling with a simple joy that he had never felt before, a feeling that was both tender and intense.  

And if he was a less vigilant person, he would have savoured the moment without worry, perhaps allowing himself to celebrate the fact that everything was going smoothly.

As it was, he was a natural worrier, and he could not seem to shake off the warnings that all his masters had given him about the _kitsune_ , both in jest and in seriousness. The _kitsune_ were kind-hearted but were troublemakers; they were wise, but mischievous; they were well-intentioned, but sometimes foolish. They were always a blessing and a curse.

Yuuri was almost tempted to ignore the teachings of his elders. Viktor had been nothing but a blessing so far.

That is, he was _almost_ tempted, if not for a tiny, niggling voice in the back of his mind that always noticed a small flaw in Viktor’s otherwise perfect being.

Small disasters seemed to follow Viktor’s every move.  

Like the precious musical instruments Viktor had broken during one of his nightly forages. Yuuri had thought it had been his careless rampage through the shrine that had caused the tragedy. When in fact, Viktor had taken great care to avoid the neat lines of implements and had instead climbed up the rafters to see if perhaps one of the birds nesting there had taken his treasure. However, he had then slipped on one of the wooden beams and fallen directly onto the unfortunate objects, breaking the flutes and catching his claws in the strings of the zither, which then led to his immediate and hurried departure.

Or the first and only time when Yuuri had asked Viktor to assist Minami in collecting water from a nearby stream to fill the _temizuya_ basins for the worshippers to cleanse themselves, since the well in the shrine had yet to be inspected and cleaned by the well-builder. Somehow, Yuuri had returned an hour later from an errand in town to find two guilty faces, an empty _temizuya_ and the absence of water buckets, which he later learned had all ended up at the bottom of the well.

Or the time when Viktor suggested he could collect firewood for the shrine’s stores and had wandered off into the woods with an axe. Yuuri still paled at the memory and praised any and all _kami_ who were listening for sparing them a true tragedy.

Then, as if the gods themselves wanted to remind Yuuri of the _kitsune’_ s faults, Yuuri saw Viktor chatting animatedly to Minami one second, his attention clearly distracted from the task of carrying the priceless teapot, and in the next, the _kitsune_ had tripped over his own sandals.

Yuuri felt his heart stop as the teapot and teacups clattered noisily, while Minami dashed forward with a screech to steady the tray.

Yuuri stared in He resumed breathing again when it became clear that the irreplaceable artefacts seemed unharmed and smiled weakly at the approach of the grinning _kitsune_ , who seemed unaware of how badly his simple task might have gone.

Once again, Yuuri silently renewed his prayers to the gods to protect his shrine from calamity.

But this time, for good measure, he also asked them for the strength to face any calamity that may, or may not, come their way.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

I

 

The light of dawn was a pale amber, as the days became shorter with the start of autumn. The sweet chirping of birds filled the air and a pleasant chill had appeared in the wind that rustled through the patches of red and golden leaves interwoven amidst the fading green.

In the shrine, the morning routine that had taken root unfolded with simple ease.

The steady scrapping of the bamboo rake against the stone path, sweeping it clean of leaves and dust, was punctured by a melodic voice that spoke with a lilting lightness as airy as light.

Occasionally, the _kitsune_ , perched barefooted on a stone lantern, his pointy ears twitching in sync with the silvery swish of his elegant tail, would say something especially amusing, and the serious demeanour of the young priest would break into a merry laugh, as he leaned against his bamboo rake to smile at the _kitsune_.

In between their lighthearted exchange could be heard the loud huffing and puffing of Minami, his shoulder laden with two buckets of water drawn from the stream nearby to fill the _temizuya_ every morning.

It took him three trips to fill the water basins in the morning and then again in the afternoon. A chore he had taken upon himself, declining any help offered by his master, deeming the task unworthy of Yuuri-sensei, but also rejecting the assistance of the _kitsune_ , whom he claimed was the sole person responsible for the incident with the water buckets.

As Minami passed them by for the second time that morning, sweat pouring down the back of his neck, Viktor sat pouting at his usual perch with his hand resting on his chin, his voice laced with slight guilt.

“I still feel guilty Perhaps we could hire another lad from the town to help him?” he suggested hopefully.

Yuuri shook his head, “Minami’s dignity would not allow it. He feels we should not spend another coin on new buckets or hired help since he feels responsible for losing our old ones.” Yuuri paused briefly to give Viktor a pointed look, earning a twinge of guilt on the _kitsune’s_ face, before continuing, “And it will not be for too long. The well-builder will return from the capital in a month and we will have our own water source in the shrine.”

“But Yuuri,” replied the _kitsune_ with a slight whine, “That is another 180 trips that I will have to witness and I do not think my poor heart could bear it.”

Yuuri chuckled in response, “I believe your heart is stronger than that, Viktor.”

“Perhaps we could ask another well-builder from the next town?” Viktor ventured thoughtfully.

Yuuri shook his head with a smile, “I do not believe that is wise, Viktor. The well-builder is a proud man and taking our business to another builder will only sour our future relationship. Be patient.”

Viktor gave a heavy sigh and resumed his pouting with his ears flattened in resignation as Minami scurried past with his empty buckets and disappeared down the path again.

Suddenly, Viktor sat up straight in his seat, his ears erect and his opal eyes glinting with the thrill of a new idea.

Yuuri sensed his sudden alertness and stopped his sweeping abruptly, his intuition picking up the signals for yet another potential incident.

“I could be sent down to inspect the well, Yuuri!” exclaimed Viktor in triumph.

Yuuri began shaking his head even before his words reached his lips.

“But why not, Yuuri? How difficult could it be?”

The words rushed to the tip of Yuuri’s tongue and they struggled to escape all at once. Where did he start? The fact that Viktor would not even know where or how to harness himself securely before descending down the long dark passage. What to look out for when he was down there. How to tell if the water was pure, or how to clean the well if contamination was found.

But Viktor had already hopped off the stone lantern, transformed into his full _kitsune_ form and was bounding on all four towards where the ropes were kept.

Yuuri threw his bamboo rake aside and ran after the silvery blur, which was headed swiftly towards the store cupboards in the _shamusho_. He barely took his first step into the office when the blur of silver dashed out again, a coil of rope and a small lantern clenched securely between its teeth.

Yuuri screeched to a halt and turned abruptly to follow, knowing immediately where the _kitsune_ was headed.

His frantic footsteps brought him to the great well in the courtyard, which was standing proudly next to the long water basins of the _temizuya_ , its magnificent emerald roof, inlaid with miky jade, innocently reflecting the morning light. The deep, intricate carvings in its stone base bringing to life the stories of the Inari Okami with breathtaking detail.

But the dignity of its magnificence was completely ignored, as Viktor now stood before it in his human form, as he wrapped the rope a few times around the wooden frame that supported the roof, securing it with a tight knot, before wrapping the other end of the rope around himself and clambering awkwardly over the side of the well, one hand clutching the small lantern.

“Viktor!” shouted Yuuri in horror. And he saw the brilliant blue eyes giving him a cheeky wink, before dipping out of sight below the surface of the well.

Yuuri dashed forward and clasped both hands around the rope, desperate to pull Viktor out of the well before the _kitsune_ could hurt himself. He caught a glimpse of the silver hair fringed by the golden glow of the lantern, slowly descending down the side of the well.

Then, he heard an ominous groan overhead, a deep creaking that resounded through the wooden frame. Yuuri lifted his gaze upwards and his heart sank when he saw the beginnings of a splinter in the wood.

He tugged frantically at the rope, yelling down into the well as he did,

“Viktor, the frame is breaking. You need to climb back up!”

From within, he heard a muffled, echoing reply,

“Wha...you say…?”

“The frame!” repeated Yuuri desperately, while overhead the groaning grew louder and louder under the pressure. “It’s breaking, climb back up!”

Then he heard the deafening snap and released the rope to shield his head against the falling debris, just as two hands grabbed his shoulders and yanked backwards onto the ground, Minami’s voice ringing in his ears, “Sensei! Look out!”

His body hit the ground hard and he was sprawled on his back as he caught sight of the heavy roof crashing into the well, dragging chunks of the crumbling stone base with it.

Yuuri stared at the scene in dumbstruck horror, watching in disbelief as the cloud of dust settled on the rubble of the collapsed well.

He scrambled to his feet and began shifting rubble from the well, shouting as he did,

“Minami, get to the Yoshida and Sakura households. They are the closest to the shrine and let them know what’s happened. Tell them to come quickly!”

Minami gave him a panicked look, then ran as fast as he could towards the town, almost tripping himself in the process.

A dozen strong men came to their aid, while half the town observed in hushed concern as they worked quickly and carefully to remove the rubble from the well, trying to avoid more blocks of stone from falling further. It wasn’t long before they reached the emerald roof, which was wedged tightly in a narrower part of the well, hopefully saving the _kitsune_ from the worst of the debris.

A loud sigh of relief went through the crowd when they heard the thin, wet cry of the _kitsune_ coming from deep within,

“Can anyone hear me?”

A rope was attached to the roof, which was carefully dragged out of the well. Then, another rope was quickly lowered and soon the haggard-looking, sopping wet _kitsune_ emerged from the well, transforming back into a silver fox as soon as it hit solid ground.

Yuuri quickly removed his outer robes and wrapped the shivering animal with them, trying his best to shield it from the cold. Then, hugging the _kitsune_ close to himself for warmth, he bowed somewhat awkwardly to the young men who had come to their rescue and thanked everyone for their concern, before quickly retreating to the privacy of his office where Viktor could recover in peace.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

The orange glow of dusk peeked through the blinds of the window, but Yuuri was still at his desk in the _shamusho_ , drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the side of his steaming cup of _matcha_. Viktor was asleep on a cushion by his knees, his body curled into a tight ball, clearly exhausted from the day’s ordeal.

Yuuri gave another deep sigh and laid a gentle hand on the _kitsune’s_ head, as he turned towards the window once again. He watched silently as the amber light grew dimmer, and listened to the slow, steady breaths of the sleeping _kitsune_ , as he lightly stroked its silvery fur.

He really ought to return home for dinner with his family. But he did not want to burden them with his troubles. Or rather, he did not want to answer any questions about what he planned to do next, because he did not know.

His funds were insufficient to rebuild a well as opulent as the one they had, and barely enough to build a normal well. When they had inspected the damage, it seemed that a large part of the stone base remained intact, which meant to rebuild it, they would either have to rip out the old base and replace it with a plain one, or hire an expert stonemason to restore the damaged parts.

It would be much cheaper to do the former but it would be a great shame. In addition to which, they also had access to the materials and skills needed to restore the well, because it was made from locally-sourced stone and the original carver had been a stonemason from the town whose sons and grandsons still continued the family trade.

The only thing lacking was funds. Funds...

Yuuri was still deep in thought when he heard a small knock on the door. He recovered from his trance, only to realise that the room was now in complete darkness.

“Come in.”

The door slid open to reveal Minami’s worried face, who was holding a small bundle in one hand and a lamp in the other.

“Mari-san stopped by with some food for us,” said Minami meekly, “She didn’t think we would want to join the family tonight.”

Yuuri gave a grateful smile, his heart warming at the thought of his sister’s wordless concern.

“Bring it in, Minami-kun. We can have it here.”

They unpacked the small bundle and Yuuri chuckled when he saw a third bento box that contained Viktor’s favorite honeyed chicken, secretly glad that his family had not cast out Viktor despite his blunder.

They sat without speaking as they ate, but Yuuri soon noticed that Minami was trying his best not to fidget under the pressure of the heavy silence and took pity on him.

“The maples in the garden have turned a beautiful red,” he said casually.

“Yes, sensei,” replied Minami, relieved at the broken silence, “Sato-san, the gardener, says all the trees are strong enough to survive the winter now. He was praising the variety of maples we have.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement, “We should have a picnic in the garden soon. To admire the work of Sato-san. Perhaps invite a few townspeople as well.”

At this, Minami sat up in excitement, “Yes, sensei. Like the _momijigari_ festivals they used to have at the Taisha.”

Yuuri snapped to attention at Minami’s words, an idea suddenly bubbling up in his mind.

A _momijigari_ , an autumn-viewing festival, like the ones in the Taisha. It was a recent trend in the capital, where the cultured would gather to admire the turning of the seasons. Those festivals drew throngs of people with their displays, food stalls, games and performances, all held under the golden and crimson glow of autumn leaves. It was now second only to the _hanami_ flower-viewing festivals in popularity. Another excuse for the people to come together in their appreciation of nature.

It would be a new concept in this region, but perhaps they could hold one in Hasetsu to raise funds for the shrine. Maybe the people of the surrounding villages might come as well.

He would need the help of the whole town. But...perhaps this could be the answer to their prayers.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

They were ernest in their efforts, going from door to door, with Yuuri explaining his plan of holding a _momijigari_ festival at the shrine to raise funds for restoring the well, while Viktor followed meekly behind, apologetic in his uncharacteristic docility.

It seemed that word had gotten around about the recent disaster at the shrine. But rather than shunning the _kitsune_ , the townspeople were mostly relieved that Viktor was unharmed and eagerly offered their help where they could.

After only three days’ work, Yuuri had compiled a long list of contributors for their festival, some offering to arrange flower displays, others to set up the stalls. Food-sellers offered to make snacks and dishes they could sell; volunteers offered to help in the making of amulets and talismans for worshippers to purchase; musicians and dancers offered to perform, all of them eager to work with Viktor in planning the performances; housewives dug out their spare mats and cushions for the viewing.

In the days that followed, Yuuri rode out to the villages in the vicinity of Hasetsu with Minako and Minami as his escorts and Viktor tucked safely before him in the saddle. They met with the leaders of every village, explaining their predicament and requesting them to kindly spread the word about the _momijigari_ festival.

Yuuri was not sure if the villagers would make the trip into Hasetsu for the festival, but the town still played an important part of village life, since the villagers could sell their goods at the town’s busy markets, and perhaps that would be enough to persuade them.

On the day of the festival, Yuuri’s heart thumped in anxiety as the volunteers arrived to prepare the shrine. Before he knew it, the _kagura-den_ stage was bursting with colorful decorations, mats and cushions were laid out under the maple trees in the garden, and stalls had been set up all over the courtyard. And still, more people were arriving at the shrine, bearing a dazzling array of flower displays, large pots of mouth-watering dishes, small mountains of delectable snacks, and a dizzying choice of souvenirs and toys.

At the appointed hour, Yuuri stood with Viktor at the top of the stone steps, looking down with bated breath at the path that was framed by the bright red of the torii gate. The sounds of the musicians tuning their instruments began to die away, and they started to play a familiar folk melody.

Then, he turned his head towards the merry laughter of children in the distance. They were the first to appear on the path, dressed in brightly coloured _yukata_ as they ran towards the shrine, their smiling parents not far behind.

Yuuri turned towards Viktor with a look of relief, and Viktor smiled in encouragement as he gave Yuuri’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The people were coming.

And the people did not stop coming, even when the musicians were out of breath and all the food had run out.

They poured into the shrine with their laughter and merrymaking, filling the courtyard and the gardens to the brim, as they admired the beauty of the autumn colours and had their fill of food and drink. The bells of the _haiden_ rang constantly with the endless stream of worshippers, the wooden boards in the courtyard were covered in paper amulets, which bore their hopes and prayers.

When the last festival goer had left and the last stall had been cleared away, the Katsuki family and its adopted members sat in a small circle around Yuuri’s desk, waiting nervously as Yuuri tallied the last of the contributions from the day.

When he finished, he pushed the piece of paper forward to show his family the total and let out a loud sob of relief. Tears began running freely down his cheeks as a tight knot loosened in his chest, while Viktor clasped his hands in a tight grasp and Minami whooped in joy.

The funds were enough. More than enough.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Even before the first chill of winter reached Hasetsu, a gleaming new well was sitting proudly in the courtyard again. The intricate carvings were perfectly restored in its base and its emerald roof was once again reflecting the morning light, though now absent of its jade inlaid, which had sadly sunk to the bottom of the well.

Minami could be seen huffing and puffing as he drew water from the well to fill the water basins of the _temizuya_ , in preparation for the arrival of the shrine goers.

From beyond the courtyard came the familiar sounds of a bamboo rake scraping against the stone path, punctuated by a lilting melodic voice and lively laughter.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

II

 

There was a loud banging on the screen door to Yuuri’s room, which was thrown open without invitation, followed quickly by the appearance of a small angry figure silhouetted by the dim light in the corridor.

“Viktor, where are you?!” the figure demanded.

Viktor uncurled himself from the cushion at the foot of Yuuri’s futon, emerging from the warm depths of Yuuri’s blanket. He blinked wearily in the direction of the noise, while Yuuri sat up with his eyes still closed, mumbling a sleepy “Wha…”

The small, angry figure stormed into the room, causing Viktor to leap from his spot and burrow further into the safety of Yuuri’s blanket.

But the blanket was ripped from Yuuri’s searching fingers, finally making him open his eyes blearily, in time to witness Viktor swiftly dodging the outstretched arms of the stranger, who then promptly transformed into a golden-furred fox and proceeded to chase Viktor around the room while yipping madly.

The racket must have woken up Minami, because the lad stumbled into the room not long after, his hair a spiky mess, as he tried to dive into the fray half-awake.

The three of them formed a chaotic mess, what with the chasing and swerving, the shouting and the loud clattering of tables and shelves.

Yuuri could hear the other members of the family stirring in their respective rooms and decided this had to stop.

He waited for the next time Viktor came close to him and swiftly scooped up the silver _kitsune_ in his arms, while holding out the other arm to keep the golden _kitsune_ from crashing into them.

“Settle down. All of you,” he commanded in a quiet voice that somehow promised more peril than a shouted threat.

The racket ceased immediately, with three pairs of eyes staring at him in fearful silence.

Yuuri gave a disappointed sigh and allowed Viktor to settle on his lap, while his stern glare made the golden _kitsune_ take two backward steps.

“Who are you?” asked Yuuri, when the golden _kitsune_ had once again transformed into its human form, which turned out to be a young lad, no older than Minami, whose hair was a golden sheen that fell into his blazing beryl eyes, dressed in simple earthy green robes.

“None of your business,” snapped the boy. “I’m here to collect the old man. The other old man wants to know what’s been delaying his return.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow and eyed Viktor with a questioning look. The silver _kitsune_ seemed to shrug at him, before worming his way from Yuuri’s arms and transforming into his human form, kneeling just slightly behind Yuuri.

“This is Yuri, a fellow _kitsune._ He is still a novice and I am helping in his training,” explained Viktor with a smile, “Do not attempt to understand his impertinent words. By old man, he means me. And by the other old man, he means our great Inari-sama.”

“And he wants your return as soon as possible,” interjected Yuri impatiently, “So, let’s go.”

Viktor hesitated slightly, suddenly tentative in his response. “I’m afraid... I have to stay a while longer. I’ve agreed to help Katsuki-sama to restore his shrine…” He paused briefly and flicked a quick glance at Yuuri, before adding, “In exchange for the return of my _hoshi-no-tama_.”

“What?!” exploded the youth, “He’s holding your _tama_ hostage?”

Yuuri quickly opened his mouth to explain that this was not the case, wanting to say that Viktor was more than free to return if he could and that they had scoured every corner of the shrine to no avail. But his words were interrupted by Viktor.

“It is quite alright, Yuri. I have merely...misplaced it and Katsuki-sama is helping me to find it.” He paused briefly and cast Yuuri another curious look, before adding, “I will most likely return as soon as I have fulfilled my promise to restore the shrine.”

“But what should I say to Inari?” demanded Yuri with a frown, “He wants me to bring you back. I cannot return empty handed.”

“Then, you can stay and help instead. With two _kitsune_ , we will finish this task in no time and you can report with success on your first mission,” chirped Viktor cheerfully, “Besides, this will give you excellent experience in your training. Do you not agree, Katsuki-sama?” At which point, he turned with an eager smile towards Yuuri.

Yuuri stared at them in amazement, his fatigued mind racing to take in everything that had just occurred.

Two kitsune!

One was already a handful and had nearly caused a tragic accident. What disasters might two of them lead to? On the other hand, two of them could increase the shrine’s prestige by leaps and bounds…

Yuuri’s startled eyes move back and forth between Viktor’s hopeful gaze and the steely glare of the younger _kitsune_ , who now seemed convinced that this was the right path to take, regardless of what Yuuri said.

Yuuri threw a stricken look at Minami, who was observing the whole scenario with equal confusion and who now shrugged in helplessness, leaving Yuuri to make the decision alone.

Yuuri’s gaze returned to the strong-willed lad with the stubborn, determined eyes.

Surely he can’t be any worse than Viktor?

To this day, he did not know what had possessed him to nod his head. But he had, and it was immediately followed by a sinking feeling of dread that he had embarked on something far more ominous.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

The basics of the shrine were now in place, functioning with smooth regularity. Worshippers could cleanse themselves at the _temizuya,_ pray at the _haiden_ , purchase amulets from the _shamusho_ , and enjoy the serene gardens. The shrine was even ready to hold wedding and purification ceremonies when needed, and could observe the major Shinto festivals, complete with performances on the newly restored _kagura-den_ stage.

However, the Hasetsu shrine was so much more than that. It extended deep into the sacred forest, with many buildings and structures still left unused, like the kitchen and dining hall, the long rows of accommodation for priests and novices in training, the lecture halls and smaller classrooms, and planting fields to grow grains used in the offerings to Inari-sama.

However, there was one building in particular that Yuuri was keen to restore more than anything, and it was the shrine’s ancient library.

Above all else, the Hasetsu shrine used to be a heart of learning, a place where priests would come to stay and study the old and new teachings of Shinto, and it was Yuuri’s secret desire that this should be restored. Perhaps not in his lifetime, but maybe he could lay the foundation for this to happen in the future.

Yuuri retrieved the shrine keys from within the folds of his thick winter robes, the white pearl peeking from between the jangling metal, and unlocked the double doors of the library for the first time in a century. A fine mist of dust escaped from within and the four of them stepped through the entrance, awe clearly written on their upturned faces, as they stared in open-mouthed wonder at the endless rows of towering bamboo shelves, laden with countless scrolls and books.

Not only did the library hold the core Shinto texts, like the _Kojiki_ and _Nihon-shogi_ , thorough and meticulous records on the customs and rituals of Shinto, and a comprehensive compilation of written tales about the _kami_ through the years, but also a multitude of books on history, politics, law, philosophy, literature, poetry, medicine and great many other subjects.

Yuuri had not imagined the immense scope of the volumes upon volumes collected in one place, and now fully understood why scholars had once travelled from across the country to visit this shrine.

He carefully caressed the spine of a volume on the Taika Reform and carefully pulled it from its hiding place, leaving a clear absence of dust in its vacated space. The pages were thin and the binding was brittle, feeling so fragile in his hands that he feared the book would crumble at his touch. Even so, the old writing was still captivating and worthy of careful preservation. With reverence, he replaced the volume in its rightful place and turned toward the amazement still plastered on his helpers’ faces.

If given a choice, he would much rather have all three of them with him as he embarked on the mammoth task of restoring the library. As it happened, it was also becoming urgent that the latrines were given a thorough scrubbing, since the increasing number of workers at the shrine meant that they could no longer slack off on this task.

Minami had volunteered to do it, grimly accepting his fate as the apprentice and therefore destined to tackle the less savoury chores. The same principle should, in theory, apply between the two kitsune, where the novice should offer to take on the less dignified task or perhaps be asked to do so.

But Yuuri did not feel comfortable enough giving orders to the fuming ball of fury, who always seemed on the verge of exploding, so instead he proffered the second feather duster and evasively inquired who might be interested in helping him with the library.

What he had not expected was for both of them to reach for the duster, and then for Viktor to snatch it away, giving his mentee a cheeky wink as he dangled the duster just beyond reach and taunted, “It’s the latrines for you, _kame_ -san!”

This provocation inevitably led to the golden _kitsune_ trying to scramble up his taller mentor to reach the duster while yelling, “You clean the latrines, old geezer!” Which then developed into a full chase around the library, filling the musty air with jeers and teases, as they weaved through the maze of shelves, barely avoiding head-on collisions with the lofty structures.

Minami followed them around, trying to stop their dangerous antics, while Yuuri looked on in frantic terror, desperately calling out for them to stop. But his calls went unheeded.

That is, they went unheeded until Viktor made a sudden turn in direction, causing both Yuri and Minami to barrel into him, and the trio to topple heavily into a bookshelf at the far end of the room.

They froze immediately when the shelf began to lean away from them and then watched on in wide-eyed horror as it teetered on its edge and crashed into the adjacent shelf, which in turn hurtled into the next shelf, and then the next, and the next, until books were sent flying in the air, loose pages ejected from their fragile binding, broken wood ricocheting throughout the room.

When the last shelf hit the wooden floor with a loud thud, the trio slowly turned their heads towards Yuuri, who had taken shelter from the hailstorm of books at the entrance and was standing in stupefied silence, his roaming eyes surveying the scene in disbelief.

They dared not move a muscle when his glazed gaze fell upon them, truly not knowing what beast they may have unleashed from this docile-looking priest. But Yuuri seemed unaware of their presence, wordlessly ignoring them as his unsteady steps took him away from the library. They watched his retreating back in terrified silence, wondering where he was going and whether they should follow him, but none of them brave enough to do so.

In the end, their cowardice won out.

Needless to say, the latrines were spotless by the end of the day.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Yuuri slipped his feet into his wooden _geta_ and turned give Minako-sensei a small bow of gratitude.

“Let me know when you plan to leave, and I will come with you,” she said solemnly, her arms crossed before her.

Yuuri gave her a small smile and deepened his bow, “I will, sensei. Thank you for everything.”

He only straightened his back when he heard Minako-sensei return to her sitting room, and turned to leave himself.

He had always come to Minako-sensei when he had problems or when he was troubled. Even when he was a child, he had come running to her a countless number of times and had ended up asleep on her floor, exhausted from his worries or his crying. When he was older, they would talk through the night and she never begrudged him her time.

Wasn’t it then natural that his wobbly footsteps had brought him to her doorstep yesterday, after the nightmarish maelstrom of wood and paper had settled on the ground? Her first words to him when he knocked on her door were, “What did the _kitsune_ burn down this time?”

He had collapsed onto the tatami floor of her sitting room, still dazed and confused. Perhaps his mind was trying to protect his sanity by refusing to accept what he had just witnessed. He vaguely remembered being forced to eat his dinner but could not recall what his meal had consisted of.

Then, they had talked. The light of lamp burning throughout the night and into the dawn. Somehow, the broken pieces of his world were put back together again, and now they had a plan.

He slid open the front door of Minako-sensei’s house and almost laughed aloud at the sight that greeted him.

Amidst the fine curtain of falling snow, three figures were bowed low before him, their shoulders drooping in deep remorse.

Yuuri had expected stern words to gush like a churning river from his lips when he saw the three culprits behind the recent misfortune. But the pitiful and comical sight of their sincere regret did more than diffuse his frustration, causing his lips to curve upwards in amusement instead.

“Come,” he said kindly, laying a gentle hand on Viktor’s shoulder, “We have work to do.”

He gave Viktor an affectionate smile, wordlessly conveying his forgiveness through the mirthful glint in his eyes, which earned him an apologetic grin. His hand remained wrapped around Viktor’s arm as they made their way back to the shrine, while the two apprentices followed meekly behind.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

While many of the townsfolk in Hasetsu could read and write, few among them were scholars, the long tradition of art and literature dying with the abandonment of the shrine.

This made the task of restoring the library a little harder, because the main damage was not the shelves, since those could be easily rebuilt by any woodworker in town and were probably in need of replacement in any case.

The main problem was the books. The thousands and thousands of books, filled with dense theory and obscure knowledge, many of which had come apart during their brief flight through the air, their pages scattered throughout the library. It would take at least two dozen scholars familiar with a wide range of subjects to put them together again. That is, if Yuuri wished the task to be accomplished within his lifetime.

Sadly, in Hasetsu, there was only him, Minako-sensei and Viktor who could perform this task.

Which meant, they had to look further afield.

That was why a mere two days after the incident, Yuuri was astride a horse again with Viktor wrapped in a thick blanket and tucked safely before him in the saddle, riding towards the edge of town to meet Minako-sensei. They would visit the well-known scholars living in the towns and cities nearby, and hopefully they would succeed at persuading some of them to come to the shrine’s aid. It would be a daunting task, given that the scholars would only be offered lodgings, meals and a token compensation for their efforts. But Yuuri silently hoped that the promise of restoring such an immense reserve of knowledge would motivate their generosity.

He had left the care of the shrine to his sister in his absence, instructing the two apprentices to keep their toes well within the line while he was away, though he suspected this would not be a problem with Mari nee-chan in charge.

Minako-sensei gave him a small nod at his approach, then she smirked at the _kitsune_ , perched with its pointy ears alert between Yuuri’s arms. “You truly are a handful, you know.”

The _kitsune_ replied with a playful bark and Yuuri laughed as he urged the horse onwards to the first town, the trotting hooves crunching softly in the thin layer of snow underfoot.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

After a month of constant travels and meetings, they finally returned to Hasetsu.

The journey had been an arduous one, with barely any time between arriving at a town and leaving it again. Thankfully, the winter had been mild but it did not stop them from shivering under their coats as icy gusts of wind chilled them to the bone during the endless trudging on the road.

But they had pressed on nonetheless, arriving at each town and meeting with its scholars, trying their best to describe the immeasurable value that the library could bring to this region. The responses they received were varied, ranging from cold disinterest to avid eagerness, which left Yuuri with an ambiguous feeling as to whether their mission was a success. After all, even the most enthusiastic might change their mind after considering all the toil and hassle involved.

But it was no use worrying over something that was now past their control. The scholars would write to them when they have made up their minds, and so the only thing they could do was wait. Even if their efforts were futile and they had to spend the rest of their lives sorting through everything themselves, then so be it. They knew in their hearts that they had done all they could.

Yuuri dismounted wearily from his horse as Viktor leapt off it. He heard the doors to the onsen slide open rapidly and the eager silhouette of his apprentice was framed briefly in the lamplight, before he dashed forward to greet his master.

“Yuuri-sensei, the letters have started to arrive!” exclaimed Minami when he reached Yuuri.

Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise and he exchanged a look of surprise with Viktor. Abruptly, he handed the reins over to Minami, who was already reaching for them, and hurried into the warmth of the onsen, Viktor close behind his heels.

They were greeted at the door by his mother, who quickly confirmed Minami’s claim and led him to the family’s private sitting room. On the low table in the center of the room was a dozen unopened envelopes, each of them covered in elegant scripts that addressed the letters to Katsuki Yuuri _shinshoku_ , head priest of the Hasetsu shrine.

Yuuri knelt hastily by the table and began opening the letters, beckoning Viktor to do the same. Judging by the dates they were written, these letters must have been sent as soon as Yuuri had left the respective towns, and all of them said the same thing: I will be honoured to participate in this endeavour and have made plans to arrive on so-and-so date.

Yuuri looked up from the last letter and the elation on his own face was matched by the brilliant smile on Viktor’s. They had met upwards of forty scholars in their travels, and at least a dozen had agreed to come. Yuuri felt yet another tight knot loosen in his chest: They would not be alone in this undertaking. Help was coming.

But then, a thought suddenly occurred to him and he quickly reached for the letter that had been written the earliest.

He felt his body tensing up again, as he read that the scholar would be arriving on the eighteenth day of this month. But that was tomorrow! He hurriedly moved on to the next, in which the scholar would be arriving a mere three days later, and another would be here the day after that.

In short, there would be no rest for him or anyone involved in the shrine, because preparations to receive their guests would have to begin immediately.

He jumped up from ground, startling Viktor in the process, and left the room in search of his mother, uttering words that were fragrant with the memories of childhood,

“ _Okāsan_ , can a friend of mine stay with us at the onsen?”

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Two dozen scholars came in all, and before long Yuuri began to feel like he was herding two dozen cats.

They came from vastly different backgrounds, their collective pool of knowledge sufficiently varied to rival even the library itself, but it was their range of personalities that was truly astounding. Yuuri had feared in the initial weeks that the differences in their characters might be a source of constant tension.

Thankfully, however, no matter how gregarious or aloof they were, all of them shared a common civility that helped to ease their interactions. On top of which, they also shared an awed admiration of the library and deep respect for knowledge, which made them meticulous and serious in their work.

The logistics of the entire operation was turning out to be less daunting than Yuuri had anticipated. When the rooms in his family’s onsen were filled, other inns in the town began to offer rooms they could spare, even providing breakfast for their guests. As for lunches and dinners, Yuuri had to bring in makeshift tables from various places to fill the dining hall, amidst his constant apologies for the shabbiness of the unrestored building.

Since the kitchens were also unfinished, Yuuri turned to his childhood friend for help, hiring Yuuko to manage the feeding of twenty-four scholars, starving from the day’s work. This turned out to be an excellent decision, as Yuuko and her three girls exceeded everyone’s expectations in their catering, earning high praise from all alike, with some joking that they were only here for the food.

Meals were partaken in a profound sense of community, during which the exchange of ideas flowed freely, as they huddled together around the warmth of the hearth in the dining hall, away from the howling wind and deep darkness of winter.

It was not uncommon to have debates break out over lunch in different parts of the room that gradually engulfed the entire hall, only to resume again at dinner. But there was no animosity in the arguments, only the passion to arrive at the truth.

Then, in the evenings, Viktor would sit himself in the centre of the hall and start playing on the zither or the flute, sometimes singing with an accompaniment. The music that he made brushed away the burdens of the day and they dispersed for the night in a spirit of peace and tranquility.

As the days passed, more books returned to the shelves in their entirety, slowly filling the rows of sleek new bamboo. One by one, the shelves were completed and catalogued, each completion constituting an occasion for a small celebration in the dining hall, followed by aching heads the next morning.

Soon the end was in sight, and the scholars began to take their leave, emptying the dining hall of their lively presence, but each of them expressing a gladness that they had undertaken this task.

By the time the last book was slotted into place, the warmth of spring had lifted the chill of winter and the first green shoots had appeared on the bare trees. The last scholar had been gone for days, leaving only Yuuri and his family to survey the beauty of the restored library.

However, the true effects of this undertaking only began to show itself with the passing of time.

As the world once again awoke from the deep slumbers of winter, bursting into a cacophony of life and activity, painting the drabness of the sacred forest with the pink and white of sakura buds, word of the library’s immense reserve of knowledge began to spread among the literary community.

This was coupled with romantic depictions of deep friendships that had been formed during the scholars’ brief stay, which rapidly served to increase the fame of the shrine and soon scholars began writing to Yuuri again. Their letters requested him to let them know when the accommodations and kitchens were restored, and expressed their keen interest to support his ambition of making the Hasetsu shrine a retreat for learning and a meeting place of minds.

Yuuri clutched the letters in his hands, re-reading them with disbelief. Was it possible that his secret dream was now within a stone’s throw of his reach? None of this would have been possible so quickly without Viktor, perhaps because of his unique and disastrous actions.

One evening, after he had locked the double doors to the library and tucked his keys safely back into this robes, Yuuri turned towards Viktor, who was standing patiently behind him as usual. He reached for Viktor’s hands and clasped them tightly in his own, his voice sincere as he said,

“Thank you, Viktor. For everything you have done.”

Viktor blinked at him in stunned silence, and Yuuri could see puzzlement in his brilliant blue eyes, given that his recent actions had led to a huge kerfuffle.

But Yuuri meant every word. It had been impossible for Yuuri alone to arrive at this stage without Viktor’s help, even if they had to put out a few fires along the way.

Nonetheless, Yuuri left his words unexplained, leaving only an enigmatic smile on his face. After all, _kitsune’s_ interest could only be kept by arousing its curiosity.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

III

 

The air was filled with the buzzing of crickets and a sweltering wind curled its heated fingers through the shrine, setting off the melodic peals of wind chimes in its path.

Overcome by the oppressive heat of summer, the two apprentices were out on the porch of the tea house, wearing as few layers as decency allowed and fanning themselves lazily in the shade.

Yuri reached wearily for a slice of melon to quench his thirst, lying on his back without care for decorum, while Minami sat cross-legged beside him, sipping a cold cup of tea. The shrine tended to be empty during the hottest hours of the day and so the shrine keepers took shelter while they could.

“I feel like I am in the pits of the underworld,” blurted Yuri weakly, sweat dripping from his forehead, “How can the air itself be boiling hot?”

“Do you not have summers where you come from?” asked Minami, slightly surprised at how badly the _kitsune_ was handling the heat.

“I come from a cold country,” mumbled the _kitsune_ , “Summers are a myth to us.”

“I do not mind the heat as much,” quipped Minami, “It’s the mosquitoes that I cannot stand.”

A loud groan escaped Yuri’s lips, clearly indicating that he had completely forgotten about the mosquitoes and was now reminded that his second worse nightmare would haunt him again at dusk.

Minami chuckled at his distress. “Don’t worry. Yuuri-sensei and Viktor-sama have decided to smoke them out of the shrine this evening. They have gone into town for mosquito repelling plants. That should help.”

Minami’s words had barely left his lips when they caught sight of Yuuri and Viktor returning from town, their faces hidden in the shade of large straw hats. Yuuri was holding a large bundle of herbs, which they presumed to be the aromatic plants, but to their surprise Viktor also had something in his hands: a large, nondescript wooden crate that gave no hints about its contents.

They scrambled to their feet, curiosity drawing them out of their hiding place.

Viktor gave them a cheerful wave when he spotted their approach and gestured excitedly at the wooden crate, causing them to hasten their footsteps.

Minami’s eyes sparkled with excitement and even Yuri’s sullen exterior was shattered when the lid was removed.

“Sparklers!” cried Minami in joy as he dug into the crate, “And fireworks!”

Yuuri smiled at his elation and said, “A merchant just arrived in town with a large supply. Everyone was queueing up to buy them. Since we will be building a fire in the courtyard this evening, Viktor thought it would be fun to light them afterwards.”

Yuri clutched the bundles of fireworks in eager anticipation, feeling for the first time since the invasion of the mosquitoes began that perhaps he could learn to like summers.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Large plumes of smoke emerged from the small fire, carrying with it the medicinal fragrance from the bouquet of herbs. All the doors and windows of the shrine were thrown open, allowing the thin tendrils of smoke to curl themselves through each nook and cranny, in the hopes of chasing away the annoying insects.

When the last bouquet had crumbled into ashes, the two apprentices scrambled to the wooden crate and began pulling out the sparklers and fireworks, tripping over themselves as they hurried to light the first sparklers.

The purple light of dusk was soon filled with bright sparks that streaked through the darkness. Then came the shrill whine of unleashed fireworks, followed by a loud pop and a rain of colourful light. Giddy laughter echoed through the empty courtyard, as four figures enjoyed the cool summer night with carefree joy.

“How many do we have left?” asked Yuuri, peering into the crate beside Viktor.

“Nine, I think,” replied Viktor. Then a mischievous grin appeared on his lips. “Should we set them off all at once?”

The two apprentices ran over as soon as Viktor made his suggestion, and began exclaiming their approval of the plan, each of them coming up with a thousand excuses for why this was an excellent and awesome idea.  

After an immense internal struggle, during which he wrestled with all the possible dangers of such an action, Yuuri made the mistake of looking straight into the three pairs of pleading eyes.

Eventually, he gave a sigh and said, “Sure.”

They stood the fireworks in the middle of the courtyard, each pointing in a different direction, their tails tied together in a knot. Viktor lit the centre of the knot and dashed for cover, as the spark rapidly travelled up the length of the fuse.

Then, there was a screeching whine, as all nine were successfully launched into the sky and the four of them pressed their fingers into their ears in anticipation of the deafening bang.

But even as Yuuri was crouched forward, waiting to jump at the loud sound, his gaze fell on two specific streaks of light and his eyes widened in horror as he realised where they were headed.

He suddenly bolted in the direction of the stone steps of the entrance, startling the others by his sudden panicked movement, but his eyes never left the two green and red sparks that were still whizzing through the air.

He came to an abrupt halt at the top of the steps, just in time to witness the two streaks of light crashing directly into the _torii_ gate, and then exploding in a spectacular bang of brilliant pyrotechnics.

Then, before his very eyes, the dry, cracking wood of the majestic _torii_ gate began to burn in a crimson tower of infernal flames.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Any and all comments welcomed.  
> Come chat on tumblr! [Weberina](http://weberina.tumblr.com/) & [Amarok](http://amarokster.tumblr.com/)  
> Link to art [here](http://amarokster.tumblr.com/post/174979395248/art-1-for-the-viktuuri-reverse-bang).


	4. Ha 破 (3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Here's the fourth and penultimate chapter :)  
> Just wanted to thank all of you for your lovely, lovely comments. I'm so sorry if I haven't gotten 'round to replying yet XoX XoX still trying to catch up with RL after the train-wreck of a Japanese test two weeks ago.........  
> Hope you enjoy the story!!  
> As usual, a thousand thanks to my sister and Sheilatakesabow for beta'ing the fic!!!

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Ha 破 (3)

 

Viktor surveyed the empty courtyard of the shrine with an air of caution, keenly aware that the clacking of his wooden  _ geta _ resounded too loudly in the silence. 

The stone path was unswept, littered with the debris of fallen leaves from the night before, mingled with a fine mist of grey ash. A strange stillness hung in the air, punctuated only by the lonesome clanging of the bells of the  _ haiden  _ in the hot summer breeze, so unlike the usual bustle of activity that they had come to expect at the shrine. 

Viktor slowly approached the office of the head priest, his lips pressed together in a thin line of guilt. His body was hunched up slightly, a subconscious expression of his remorse. Even his brightly-coloured yukata had been replaced by more subdued robes of olive green.

Yuuri had shut himself in his office last night, after the fire had died out and the  _ torii _ gate stood in its charred and blackened state, the top beam now laying uselessly on the ground. 

The roaring blaze had immediately raised the alarm in town and the townspeople had arrived in their throngs with buckets of water and sand to put it out. But the gates were too tall and the fire had been far beyond the reach of even the tallest ladders. All of them had stood by helplessly, watching in horror as the greedy orange flames consumed the towering  _ torii. _

Thankfully, the fire had not yet spread to the surrounding trees of the sacred forest before a heavy shower of summer rain had rapidly put it out.

Viktor rested his hand gently on the coarse paper of the screen door to Yuuri’s office and bit his lower lip as he wondered what words of comfort he could bring to the young priest in distress beyond the doors.

What had happened had purely been an accident, far beyond anything that he could have foreseen. But Viktor knew that he had played a major role in bringing about its occurrence. In fact, one could say that he was solely responsible for everything that had taken place. 

His only defence was that it had not been intentional. Such things seemed to just... _ happen _ wherever he went. Over the years, he had learnt to accept his fate, to brush off whatever came his way and return his focus on what needed to be done next with nothing more than a charming smile. 

But he couldn’t shake the sight of Yuuri’s face from his mind, as pale as a winter’s moon, staring unblinkingly in powerless dismay as the most prominent and central symbol of his beloved shrine was destroyed before his very eyes. 

The terrible memory made it extremely difficult for Viktor to move on with his practiced ease, and a frown wrinkled his worried brows as he slid open the screen door with as much meekness as he could muster.

After the last embers had finally been extinguished, Yuuri had pulled together the remnants of his self-control, somehow managing to find a calm voice to thank the townspeople who had remained behind in the pouring rain, giving them words of comfort and reassurance, before sending them home with some measure of hope that all was not lost. 

But Viktor could see the signs of immense strain in the thin line of his smile and the slight tremor in his voice, knowing that Yuuri was doing everything he could to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to escape, fighting to keep the mask of composure in place.

When only his family remained, Yuuri had allowed some of his distress to seep through, responding only by shaking his head whenever anyone asked if he needed anything. Viktor had desperately wanted to offer some sort of comfort, perhaps to wrap his arm around those shaking shoulders until everything was better again. 

But Yuuri had pulled himself away from his family, keeping a slight distance that subtly hinted at his need for space. And so, no one had followed his retreating figure to the sanctuary of the  _ shamusho _ and no one had disturbed him last night, save for Minami who had been delegated to check on him every few hours.

Then, when dawn had broken, its hopeful rays of sunshine finally chasing away the shadows of the long sleepless night, it was decided that Viktor should be sent to pull Yuuri out from the depths of his catatonia.

Viktor peered cautiously into the office and found Yuuri at his desk, cradling his head in his hands as he rocked his body back and forth, muttering something inaudible in a pained voice. 

Silently, Viktor approached the dejected figure, trying to catch the words that Yuuri was muttering between short bursts of crazed laughing.

“A shrine without a  _ torii _ , what is that? It cannot be… it is no longer a shrine… It is a storeroom for relics. A guesthouse for travellers… What… what have we done… What have I done… How did I let this happen…”

“Yuuri?” ventured Viktor in a soft voice, slowly lowering himself beside the distraught young man, afraid that any sudden movements might trigger an unexpected reaction. 

His presence still went unheeded, even when he placed a tentative hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. But the gentle touch stopped the rocking, and Viktor could feel the small tremors of shuddering coming from Yuuri’s body. 

Viktor kept his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, silently offering his support until the shudders began to subside and the laboured sobs finally gave way to slow, steady breaths. 

Then, Viktor felt a slump in the shoulder beneath his palm, and heard a thin voice that asked weakly,

“What should I do?”

Viktor remained silent. 

He had spent all of last night talking to everyone he knew, asking for their advice, hoping that someone would know what could be done, but to no avail. 

It was a  _ torii _ gate after all. There were no timbers in the region that were tall or sturdy enough to build a  _ torii _ gate. There were no woodworkers in this town or the next, or even in the nearby cities who had the skill to construct such a structure. And even if they used up all the funds that Yuuri was allocated for the shrine, they would not have enough. Not even if they had a dozen more festivals or a dozen wealthy patrons. 

Viktor had eventually found out from the records of the shrine that the gate was a gift from the capital when the shrine was first built, and he had given up his search after that, because a small town like theirs did not have the resources to match those of the imperial capital. 

Nevertheless, in his final discussion with the Katsuki family last night, they came across the most obvious solution to their problems. One they had yet to consider, perhaps because they knew instinctively that Yuuri would be reluctant to take this path. Inexplicably, everyone had unanimously decided that Viktor should be sent to persuade Yuuri, seeming to think that the  _ kitsune _ held some kind of sway over the young priest. 

But, hearing the pleading tone of Yuuri’s desperate voice, asking for help even when Viktor was the sole cause of the recent calamity, Viktor couldn’t help the small flutter of excitement amidst the flood of guilt.

In a quiet voice, he suggested gently, “Write to your master in the Fushimi Inari Taisha. He may know what to do.”

Yuuri gave him a stricken look, a tangle of emotions parading through his brown eyes, as humiliation, fear and hope struggled against each other for dominance. 

“I can’t,” he choked out in a strangled voice, his tear-streaked face turning ashen, “I can’t do that.”

“Why not, Yuuri?” asked Viktor softly. 

Yuuri looked away quickly, casting his gaze down towards his fingers that were still clasped tightly before him.

Then, in a frightened voice that was barely audible, Yuuri replied, “I cannot let him know that I have failed him so thoroughly.” 

Viktor’s eyes widened at those words and he quickly leaned forward.

“Yuuri, look at me,” he said firmly, as he lifted Yuuri’s chin to face the despairing brown eyes, “You have not failed your master. Far from it. Look at what you have already accomplished. If anything, all of this is-”

Viktor bit back his words just in time, abruptly quashing his urge to pour out all the apologies that were trapped in his conscience. This was not the time to assuage his own guilt. It was not what Yuuri needed from him now. 

“You have done more for this shrine than anyone could imagine was possible, Yuuri,” continued Viktor with an encouraging smile, “This is a difficult task, and there is no shame in asking for help. What we have encountered here is merely another obstacle in our path to restoring the shrine. And I trust that you will guide us through it.”

Yuuri’s stricken gaze became searching, as though he was looking for signs that Viktor was lying or was somehow hiding his true feelings that the shrine was now doomed. But Viktor knew he believed nothing of that sort. His trust was complete and the upward curves of the supportive smile remained on his lips.

Gradually, Viktor saw the first signs of hope taking root, its blossoms spreading across the tear-streaked face. After a brief silence, Yuuri nodded resolutely and reached across the desk for his writing implements. 

But he was stopped by a gentle squeeze on his arm and he threw a questioning glance at Viktor.

“Write to him,” said Viktor with amusement glinting in his eyes, “When you have eaten and slept.”

Yuuri nodded again with a sigh of resignation and allowed Viktor to help him to his wobbly feet, before leading them home to the onsen. 

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

The letter to his master was long and pleading, detailing every incident that had taken place since the arrival of the  _ kitsune _ . 

When the ink had dried, he sealed the letter carefully in an enveloped and pressed it into the hands of a fast messenger to Kyoto. Beside him, Viktor gave the messenger a lengthy lecture, stressing the utmost importance of delivering the letter personally into the hands of the head priest of the Fushimi Inari Taisha. Though his tone was light-hearted, it was laced with a menacing edge that seemed to promise unspeakable threats should the messenger fail. 

Worried that the guards might not grant the messenger a meeting with the master, Yuuri decided to send the younger  _ kitsune _ as well, entrusting his personal seal to the lad and instructing him to reveal it when necessary. 

Yuri had accepted the task without even a grunt of complaint, which seemed to Viktor to be a clear sign of his regret at having been involved in the fire. He merely accepted the seal and promised to bring it back safely.

The whole family had gathered before the entrance of the onsen to see the odd duo off on their important errand. The messenger’s face grim as he prepared himself for two days’ worth of hard riding to the capital, his supplies tied in a small bundle to his bag, while the golden  _ kitsune _ sat within an oblong cup that hung beside the rider and strapped securely to the reins, with Yuuri’s seal sitting in a small pouch around its neck. He gave a curt bark of farewell and they departed in a cloud of dust. 

Yuuri gazed at the rapidly disappearing silhouette of the messenger, wringing his hands in worry. 

Now, it was a matter of waiting. 

It took two days of hard riding to reach the capital, another two to return, and who knew how long the interim would take. It could be a few days or a few weeks. Perhaps his master would not have a solution and the shrine would no longer have a  _ torii  _ gate. Perhaps his master would refuse to help him. Perhaps Yuuri would be demoted and be replaced by a more competent priest. Perhaps the Taisha would cut off their ties to the Hasetsu shrine. Perhaps… Perhaps...

Yuuri felt his fears spiralling out of control and closed his eyes tightly as he tried to calm his thoughts with deep breaths. Then, suddenly, he was surrounded by a comforting warmth and he took shelter in a protective embrace that seemed to shut out his worries.

His eyes flew open and he gazed upwards at the twinkling blue-green eyes of the silver-haired  _ kitsune _ beside him, who had wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri leaned gratefully into the embrace and managed a weak smile at Viktor.

“Come inside, Yuuri,” said Viktor in a soothing voice, “Let us put it out of our minds now that the matter is out of our hands.”

Yuuri nodded wordlessly, and allowed himself to be turned away from the distant figure, speeding towards the capital, bearing all their hopes and dreams.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Yuuri barely left the onsen during the agonising wait. 

Mari nee-chan had once again taken over the running of the shrine with Minami to assist her. She had taken one look at Yuuri the day after the fire and curtly ordered him to stay at home. 

Viktor never left his side the entire time, staying as close as he could to Yuuri and keeping a careful watch over Yuuri’s state of mind. Whenever lines of distress emerged on Yuuri’s face, the  _ kitsune _ would endeavour to coax him out of his worries with light-hearted words. When a dark cloud seemed to shadow his eyes, Viktor would silently take his hand until it passed. 

When it seemed as if he had forgotten the burdens of the world and his sweet smile returned to his lips, Viktor would bring him further back to life. They would talk, or make music; sometimes Yuuri would even retrieve his calligraphy set and Viktor would be mesmerised by the beautiful strokes of ink that danced across the rice paper. 

And so they passed the time, rarely venturing from each other’s sight, seeming content even to remain in silence, as though the lack of words only brought them closer. 

The only time they parted company was when the sound of hooves could be heard in the courtyard. Each time that happened, Viktor’s ears would prick to attention and he would hurry towards the entrance, whereas Yuuri would cast a frightened look towards the door but remain rooted to the spot, afraid of what awaited him outside. 

The visitors were invariably delivery carts dropping off supplies for the onsen, or guests from out of town who wished to stay at the inn. Viktor would return to him with a slight shrug, and they would resume whatever distraction that had previously held their attention. 

Until one day, they both heard the rapid clip-clopping of hooves on the pavement in the courtyard, the speed of the rider immediately revealing that they were not the usual visitor to the onsen. 

Once again, Viktor rose quickly to his feet and was out the door in a flash, his sky blue robes fluttering about him in his haste. 

This time, Yuuri followed him as far as the foyer, only remembering that he had forgotten to slip on his geta when his bare feet touched the cold surface of the stone slabs in the entryway. But there, his footsteps faltered and he stood paralysed, waiting for Viktor to return. 

Soon, he heard voices streaming in from the courtyard and his heart stopped when he recognised Yuri's sullen tone. They had finally returned. After nearly three weeks of absence. Vaguely, he could make out Viktor's cheerful voice as he thanked the messenger and enquired about their trip. 

Yuuri knew he should have been the one greeting their return from Kyoto, but try as he might, he could not get his feet to move forward. 

His struggles were abruptly cut short when Yuri's golden head emerged between the blue cloth dividers at the entrance. The kitsune raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw Yuuri rooted to the spot and threw a questioning glance at Yuuri's bare feet. 

A blush quickly spread across Yuuri's cheeks, as he stuttered, "I was just about to- I mean- Welcome back."

Yuri frowned slightly at his odd behaviour but seemed to quickly lose interest, as he removed the small pouch hanging around his neck and handed it over to Yuuri.

"Viktor has the letters. Here's your seal."

Then, he pushed past Yuuri to remove his sandals, seeming eager to once again enjoy the comforts of the onsen. 

Before the teen could disappear into the baths, Yuuri quickly added, "Thank you for all your hard work, Yuri." He couldn't help a small grin when all he received in response was a grunt of acknowledgment and a small wave that seemed to brush off his efforts. 

Viktor soon appeared behind him and Yuuri whirled around to find a bright smile plastered on Viktor's face. In his hands were two envelopes, one plain and simple, bearing the familiar script of his old master, the other much larger, made of thicker paper and bearing an elaborate script. 

Yuuri gave Viktor a nervous glance, waiting to receive the letters. But Viktor held them close to himself, as he suggested lightly, 

"Shall we go to the sitting room? I will fetch your parents."

Yuuri waited with his hands clasped tightly together on his knees, staring at the two letters that laid unopened before him on the low table. His parents were seated opposite to him, though their attention was otherwise engaged, his mother busying herself with pouring out four cups of tea, while his father was already tucking into the plate of afternoon treats. 

Viktor was beside him as usual, but his eyes were fixed only on Yuuri, carefully observing, silently encouraging. 

Yuuri took a deep calming breath and reached for the letter from his old master. He tore it open slowly and read it with clammy hands. 

When he had finished reading it, he read it again. Not quite believing his eyes. 

By the third reading, Viktor became impatient.

“What does it say, Yuuri?" he asked, eyeing the growing incredulity on Yuuri's face with concern. 

Yuuri looked up from the letter and blinked dazedly at the three pairs of curious eyes that were staring intently at him.

“My master says he has requested an audience with the emperor,” replied Yuuri breathlessly.

“The emperor?” repeated Viktor in surprise.

Yuuri nodded. "The audience was granted to hear his plea for the Hasetsu shrine. He has seen the emperor and..."

His voice trailed off weakly and he swallowed nervously. 

Viktor clutched his arm in a tight grip as he demanded, "And?"

"He wishes to speak to us. The emperor. To Viktor and me."

Yuuri felt his fingers grow colder by the minute, clenching too tightly around the letter from his master. 

His mind was still struggling to accept the words he had just read. 

An audience with the emperor. Him. A lowly Shinto priest from a seaside town. Accompanied by the kitsune of the Hasetsu shrine. 

What could the emperor possibly want from them? Had their disasters so angered the emperor that he had demanded their presence in the capital to give an accounting for their actions? Would they be thrown in prison as a lesson to other wayward priests? Was he to work as a slave until he could pay off the cost of the torii gate? What did all of this mean?

"Yuuri?"

He was startled from his thoughts by Viktor's worried voice, suddenly realising he had been staring motionlessly at Viktor for some time and that the letter in his hand had been crumpled in his fist. 

Then, his gaze fell back down to the larger envelope that remained unopened on the table, and watched wordlessly as his mother reached over to pick it up. 

"This must be from the palace," she remarked in an awed voice, lightly caressing its textured surface, "I have never seen such nice paper before."  

Of course. How had he been so blind that he failed to see the imperial seal stamped so clearly upon it, or to notice the pattern of chrysanthemums along its edges? 

His mother cast him a questioning glance, as she asked, "Should I open this for you, Yuuri?" 

Truth be told, Yuuri wanted the letter to remain sealed, for the torii gate to be unharmed, and for himself to finally wake up from this living nightmare. 

But he nodded his head anyway, and instead tried to focus his mind on the comforting touch of Viktor's hand that had somehow eased the crumpled letter from his fingers and was now curled protectively over his own. 

The envelope contained a folded, cream-coloured paper that was only embellished with the sixteen-petaled chrysanthemum of the imperial family. Within it were a few plain lines written in neat brush strokes, simply stating that the Emperor Murakami requested the presence of Katsuki Yuuri Shinshoku and Viktor the Kitsune at the imperial court on the twentieth day of the following month. 

When it was Yuuri's turn to read the letter, he held it gingerly in his hands, his brows remained creased in a troubled look. This served as a stark contrast to the ever-widening smile that lit up the kitsune's face, thus eventually prompting Viktor to ask, 

"Why do you look so downcast, master priest? Is this not the answer to all our prayers? We have been invited to the palace to see the emperor himself!"

But Yuuri's expression remained solemn and his gaze returned again to the letter in his hands. 

That was the question, was it not? 

Was this an invitation, or was it a summons?

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Since the letter had only included the two of them, Yuuri decided to travel to the capital alone with Viktor, even though every fibre of his being wanted to bring his entire family and half the town just so the attention would not be entirely on him. 

It was a nerve-wracking thought, being summoned by the emperor to the palace, and Yuuri had been a tight coil of tension since they had received the letter, and his anxiety had only worsened since they left Hasetsu. 

He did not know what awaited them at the end of the journey. While everyone had tried to reassure him that the summons must be for something good, Yuuri believed it could equally be because the emperor wanted an accounting of Yuuri's poor caretaking of the shrine, which in his mind could only result in his dismissal or imprisonment. 

Viktor on the other hand was an unquenchable ball of excitement, who seemed to have trouble sitting still in his saddle. He was not in his usual spot, like in their previous travels, where he would be tucked safely between Yuuri's arms on the same horse. 

This time, however, he travelled on his own horse and seemed to be considerably less comfortable, but Yuuri did not want to risk appearing too undignified when they arrived at the palace. In any case, the kitsune's eagerness seemed to be overshadowing any discomfort he may be feeling, since he has been chattering non-stop in an exuberant tone throughout their journey. 

Viktor was convinced this invitation could only mean that the emperor was interested in helping their task. He never failed to chide Yuuri every time he used the word ‘summons’ and always corrected it to ‘invitation’ instead, saying that they were nothing but welcomed guests at the imperial court. 

But if that were the case, then would his master not have mentioned it in his letter? As it was, the letter did not contain a single word alluding to any help that the emperor intended to offer. Coupled with the vagueness of the imperial summons, Yuuri's own conclusion was that his master was trying to spare him the bad news for as long as possible. A theory that the kitsune vehemently disagreed with. 

“In any case,” the  _ kitsune _ had remarked brightly, “If we are to be arrested for our crimes, then at least we will have the chance to meet the emperor and his court before wasting away in prison!” 

It was such an absurd level of optimism that Yuuri could not resist the helpless smile that formed on his lips.

Whatever their speculations, the quiet dirt paths that were sheltered by lush green woods led them steadily away from their small town, and gradually gave way to wider roads that were paved with stone. The number of travellers began to increase as they approached the capital, growing exponentially from small groups of travellers to merchants transporting dozens of carts that trundled noisily on the dusty road, alongside ornate palanquins borne on the shoulders of two or four men, bobbing rhythmically as they carried the rich and powerful. 

They soon arrived at the imposing walls of Kyoto and were quickly swallowed by the deafening din of the bustling capital as they blended into the stream of travellers entering the city. 

However, as soon as they passed the gates, they were stopped by four guards on horseback, their flaming red riding robes covered by panels of leather armour, the elaborate helmets easily singling them out as imperial guards. 

Yuuri’s heart began thumping with dread at the sight of the four somber faces, but Viktor was already greeting them cheerfully, even daring to ask if the guards were here to escort them. 

To Yuuri's surprise, one of the guards broke into a small smile, as he replied, "Indeed, master  _ kitsune _ . It was hard to miss your silver hair."

Nonetheless, the guards were strict in following their orders, first requesting to see the invitation before proceeding. Yuuri produced the letter with fumbling fingers, almost hoping that the guard might be dissatisfied with the letter and turn them away now. But the guard merely confirmed the authenticity of the imperial seal and returned the letter with a curt nod, before gesturing for them to follow. 

As they trotted towards the palace, Yuuri noticed that the residents of the city had begun to line up along the road and were waving cheerfully to them. Viktor seemed to revel in the attention, as he flashed them his winsome smile and waved back merrily. Yuuri, however, was less receptive to this welcome, certain that none of the civilians actually knew who he and Viktor were, but were probably impressed by their escorts and believed that they must be important people. 

This fact was most definitely confirmed when Yuuri overheard a child asking “Mama, who are they?” 

And his mother had replied, “I’m not sure, little one. But they must be important. Look at the imperial guards.”

Their party slowed to a halt before the palace gates, and the pair stared in open-mouthed awe at the towering crimson structure studded with round brass door nails that were larger than their faces. The gates swung open with an ease that should not have been possible with their immense weight, and Yuuri felt cowed as they passed beneath the shadow of the foreboding archway. 

They followed meekly behind as the guards led them through a dizzying array of paved roads and stately buildings with vermillion pillars and emerald roofs, afraid to wander far lest they lose themselves in this complex maze. 

They were amazed by the endless buzz of activity around them as they passed by, catching glimpses of servants dressed in simple robes of different colours, carrying precarious trays and baskets, scurrying to and fro as they scrambled to keep the palace running smoothly. 

Here and there, they spotted a royal consort, invariably dressed in a magnificent kimono that was embellished with intricate embroidery, walking daintily on impossibly high sandals under the shade of large umbrellas, her ladies-in-waiting fluttering like radiant butterflies around her. Occasionally, they would even catch sight of imperial officials with their unmistakable hats, some having heated discussions in small groups, others hurrying along with their scribes and assistants. 

Eventually, they reached another smaller set of gates, through which was a large courtyard surrounded by more subdued buildings, with their sienna pillars and cypress roofs. 

They dismounted before the largest hall in the compound, the entrance to which was framed by the luxuriant branches of an orange tree and a sakura tree. Based on his previous studies on the palace, Yuuri immediately recognised from the two trees that they had been led to the Inner Palace and now stood before the Throne Hall, where the emperor hosted smaller functions. 

They followed the lead of their escorts, and handed their reins to several grooms who had appeared to tend to their horses. Two servants emerged from within the Throne Hall and waited demurely at the top of the stone stairs, their light green robes slightly more elaborate than those of the other servants Yuuri had seen. 

Yuuri cast a tentative glance towards the guards, who gestured towards the servants with a bow. Viktor quickly thanked the guards for their hospitality and promptly led Yuuri up the stairs, barely concealing his bursting excitement. 

Yuuri half-expected to be led away somewhere to change into more opulent clothes, as he tried desperately to brush off the dust from his simple priest’s attire and straighten his black eboshi hat, feeling extremely shabby beside Viktor's glorious turquoise kimono that shimmered as he moved. But the two servants merely smiled politely at them and led them straight into hall.  

His breath began to quicken with every step they took. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead but he was too terrified to wipe it off. Then, he felt a small squeeze on his hand and glanced at Viktor, who gave him an encouraging smile that said everything would be fine.

Yuuri took a deep breath to calm his thundering heart. 

It was inconsequential at this point to worry over whether they would be fine or not. There was no escape from this meeting with the emperor. 

They entered the hall in reverence and were immediately dazzled by its opulence and lavishness. The wooden floor was covered in a long strip of verdant green carpet, patterned with complex geometric shapes. Mighty pillars of dark mahogany lined the sides of the hall, their bases circled with gold and precious gems together with intricate carvings of dragons and phoenixes, supporting rafters that were far above their heads.

Two rows of courtiers were seated on either side of the long aisle. The women dressed in resplendent  _ kimono _ , their hair laden with glittering ornaments, the men sombre in their layers of rich dark robes, openly observing the arrival of these two strangers, some of them with overt amusement. Yuuri tried to avoid their stares as much as possible, squirming slightly at their intense scrutiny, but Viktor caught the eye of every courtier he could, charming them with his infectious smile, even causing one of them to hide her giggling behind her fan.

At the far end of the hall sat the emperor on a raised platform, his kind eyes watching their every move as they walked down the aisle towards him. 

When they arrived nearly three feet from the emperor, the two servants bowed deeply and dismissed themselves. In unspoken unison, Yuuri and Viktor greeted the emperor with a full ceremonial bow, touching their foreheads to the ground and remaining prostrate as they awaited the emperor’s permission to rise.

“Rise,” said a deep, soothing voice and they quickly unfolded themselves from the ground. They knelt with eyes downcast, waiting for the emperor to address them further, though Yuuri was sure Viktor was already stealing covert glances. 

“So,” began the emperor, “You are the  _ kitsune _ who managed to burn down the proud  _ torii _ of the Hasetsu shrine.”

The voice was so even and neutral that Yuuri could not tell by his tone alone whether the emperor was happy, angry or merely annoyed. In the end, he gave in and stole a peek at the regal figure before them. 

To his surprise, there was small smile of amusement on his kindly face as he eyed the pair of them with paternal delight. A quick sideways glance revealed that Viktor was already returning the emperor’s gaze without evasion, a playful smile on his lips.

Then, the emperor’s gaze fell directly on Yuuri, as he remarked,

“And you are the priest who allowed an untamed  _ kitsune _ in your shrine.”

Yuuri quickly dropped his gaze again, wondering if he should begin apologising for everything that had happened, while manically wondering how he could further deepen his bow when he was already on the floor.

But before he could say a word, the emperor began laughing and Yuuri looked up at him in surprise. 

“I have heard a portion of your tale from the master of the Taisha,” said the emperor, “But I would like to hear the full account from the both of you. My court scribes are at the ready. Perhaps we could make a comedic play from this, since I tire of the tragedies that my writers seem to favour. What do you say, master _kitsune_?”

“Ah, your majesty,” exclaimed Viktor with twinkling eyes, delighted that he was finally allowed to break his silence, “It would be our utmost honour to entertain you with our adventures, and it is a great blessing that we have experienced them so that we may share them with you.”

Then, Viktor cast an expectant look towards Yuuri, silently urging him to take the lead.

Yuuri returned his gaze with a stricken expression, still scrambling to process the fact that the emperor was not at all furious and had no intention whatsoever to imprison them, but instead was eager to hear about their escapades. He glanced nervously towards the patient smile on the emperor’s face and back to the keen gaze of the  _ kitsune. _

Then, he began in a halting voice, “Well...uh, your majesty, you see, all this began about two summers ago…”

And so, they began a full account of their tale. Yuuri attempting to reproduce an accurate report of their dealings, his voice becoming stronger with every word, while Viktor gleefully supplied whimsical details that Yuuri had missed out. 

Throughout the telling, the emperor was thoroughly absorbed and free with his laughter, occasionally interrupting them at certain points to elaborate further or to clarify something. 

At the end, the emperor wiped a tear from his eye and remarked in a sympathetic tone, 

“It may be a surprise to my subjects but I myself am no stranger to such misfortunes. Just six years ago, this very palace was badly damaged in a fire and my court had no choice but to take temporary shelter at a close relative’s of the empress for two years.”

This revelation drew looks of astonishment from Yuuri and Viktor. They had heard news of the great fire in the palace, everyone in the country had, but they had not considered where the royal court would stay in the meantime. It seemed surreal to think that even the emperor had to find refuge under someone else’s roof. 

“So, you see, Master Katsuki, I empathise with your devastation,” continued the emperor, a playful glint in his eyes, “And I did not have to deal with the antics of not just one but two  _ kitsune _ .” 

“Indeed, your majesty,” replied Yuuri with a small smile, “And I am eternally grateful for your understanding.”

“Have no worries about your shrine, master priest,” said the emperor jovially, “You will be granted all the resources you need to restore it. I will summon my best builders and woodworkers. They will be ready to depart in a week.”

Yuuri’s head snapped up in surprise and he heard a small gasp escape from Viktor’s lips.

“Your majesty!” he exclaimed in shock. 

“Consider this a reward for your tale, Master Katsuki,” replied the emperor with a kind smile, “Also, I would hate for all your hard work to amount to nothing.”

“You will stay with us while the builders prepare to leave,” added the emperor, “I hear that master  _ kitsune _ , you are a skilled musician, and Master Katsuki you are a wise and learned student of Shinto. Your repayment to me will be your music and your wisdom.”

Then, he clapped his hands twice, which seemed to signal the start of the evening meal. Servants immediately began entering in their throngs with small lacquered tables and heavy trays of delicate dishes, the fragrant smell of delectable food permeating the air.  

Amidst the bustle of preparations for their feasting, one of the servants guided them with a polite bow to seats that were alarmingly close to the emperor’s. Yuuri rose onto his shaky feet, desperately clutching Viktor’s arm for support. 

As they followed the servant, Yuuri still leaning heavily on Viktor, not daring to trust his weak legs, he whispered urgently, “Is this really happening, Viktor? Am I dreaming?”

A short chuckle escaped Viktor’s lips, and he pulled Yuuri closer to himself, as he replied, “Yes to both, Master Katsuki. It is a dream come true.”

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

The week spent in the palace felt like they had stepped into an alternate realm.

They were housed in quarters within the Inner Palace itself, which were not too far from the rooms of the crown prince. They had a small courtyard all to themselves, where a grand willow tree stood with its drooping leaves, and five servants tended to their every need. 

The emperor had gifted them with several sets of kimonos, as well as priestly attire that were more regal than those that Yuuri owned. For the first time in his life, Yuuri felt more comfortable wearing lavish clothing, with their excessively-long sleeves and heavy fabric weighed down by elaborate embroidery, since it meant he did not stand out too prominently amongst the resplendence of the courtiers in his simple robes. 

During the day, they were free to do as they wished. A guide had been assigned to arrange whatever amusements that took their fancy and to lead them through the confusing labyrinth of the palace. Yuuri took the chance to visit his old master and his friends at the Taisha, which also gave Viktor the opportunity to pry into a slice of Yuuri’s past. 

Sometimes, the master builders and woodworkers would drop by to discuss specific matters on restoring the shrine, wishing to collect first-hand information about the buildings as they could only work from floor plans and sketches from the palace’s records. 

Other times, they wandered through the palace, admiring the tranquillity of its gardens, exploring the intricacies of its architecture and the collection of relics, studying ancient scrolls in its libraries, all the while knowing that they would never again be afforded this rare privilege. 

In the evenings, they were summoned to the smaller  _ Jijūden _ hall, where the emperor held smaller functions after the closing of official court matters in the Greater Palace. They would partake of the evening meal by the emperor’s side, an honour that still boggled Yuuri’s mind.

Afterwards, Viktor would sometimes entertain the smaller group of courtiers with his music, enchanting them with the strumming of a  _ shamisen _ and the sweet tones of his melodic voice. Other times, they would converse with the emperor on whatever topic his majesty chose, which often seemed to venture towards the teachings and history of Shinto, where Yuuri’s knowledge was both deep and broad, quickly earning him the unspoken respect of the emperor and his courtiers. 

They were summoned every evening during their stay, their presence seeming to bring genuine delight to the emperor, and an extravagant banquet was thrown in their honour on the last night. 

When it was time for them to depart, they were once again escorted through the streets of the city, but this time by eight palace guards and scores of trundling carts bearing the first batch of materials needed by the master builders. The grand spectacle of their departure once again attracted a small crowd, who smiled and waved at them as they trotted through the street. 

However, it seemed that a week in court had been sufficient to ignite the spark of fame. Because Yuuri once again overheard a child asking his mother who they were. Unlike their previous encounter, this time the reply had been, 

“That is Katsuki Yuuri, a famous Shinto priest and the one with the silver hair is Viktor the  _ kitsune _ .”

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Their arrival back in Hasetsu was greeted by the awestruck faces of the townspeople, who could not peel their eyes away from the long parade of carts and horses that followed behind them. An atmosphere of hope and anticipation quickly spread throughout the town, and for weeks the gossips revolved around the meeting with the emperor and the swift restoration of the shrine. 

His family and its additional members were waiting at the shrine, having been told that this would be Yuuri’s first stop. There was a sense of disbelief, of incredulity, an intense feeling of impossibility that caused Minami to burst into hysterical tears, and Yuri to demand with dazed fury, “Does this mean we’re going back soon, Viktor? Does it?!” 

Work began as soon as the workers reached and had unloaded their carts. One group began tearing down the burnt _ torii _ gate and digging deep holes for its new foundations, ready for the arrival of massive timbers from a distant forest. Another group began setting up makeshift camps in the courtyard and whatever space they could find, which served as adequate accommodation, complete with a functional kitchen. 

The master builders immediately fanned out into the four corners of the shrine complex, scrutinizing the unrestored buildings and tweaking the preliminary plans they had formed in the capital, while their assistants took meticulous notes at a furious speed. Lengthy discussions ensued for days, during which they took great care to include the opinions of Yuuri and Mari, who both had overseen the running of the shrine. 

Then, when the plans had been finalised, the works were suddenly kicked up a notch and the shrine seemed to explode with a hubbub of activity, causing even Yuuri to retreat well away from the frenzy of construction to the safety of the onsen, knowing that the master builders would call on him if they needed his input. 

But he and Viktor made it a point to visit the shrine in the evenings, when work had ended for the day. They would wander through the shrine each night, constantly amazed by the astounding speed of progress, achieved by the sheer force of power and resources that the imperial court yielded. These were the workers who had rebuilt the palace within five years after all.

In less than two months, just as the first leaves turned red and the summer heat was dissipated by a colder wind, the work was complete. 

A gleaming new  _ torii _ framed the path once again, its black and vermillion paint still fresh and glossy. Every single stone slab that had chipped or cracked had been replaced, its colour a slightly lighter shade than the rest. All the buildings in the shrine had been immaculately restored, from the accommodations, to the kitchens, to the numerous auxiliary shrines. Even the milky jade inlay of the water well in the courtyard had returned, adding an extra sheen to its emerald roof.

To Yuuri’s further astonishment, the master of the Taisha wrote that the emperor had also approved a substantial increase to the shrine’s funds for its upkeep, citing the reason that the Hasetsu shrine would soon need to prepare for an onslaught of worshippers and scholars, since many had caught wind of their audience with the emperor and would arrive in their throngs.  

By the time the first leaf fell, Yuuri was seeing off the last of the master builders, bowing as he disappeared down the path on horseback.

When the silhouette was finally out of sight, Yuuri gave a deep sigh of relief, secretly glad to be free from the frantic buzz of activity and to regain the precious tranquillity of the shrine. He turned towards Viktor, whose familiar presence by his side now felt like second nature, and was about to suggest a stroll through the gardens, when he saw a serious look on the  _ kitsune _ ’s face. 

Viktor’s lips were parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something and Yuuri waited patiently, but with a silent dread that clutched at his heart. 

Deep down, he knew what Viktor intended to say. How could he not know? When the last builder had left and the shrine was now restored. Had the kitsune not said that he would leave when this task was completed? Was this not what he had promised his younger counterpart? 

They still had not found Viktor's  _ hoshi-no-tama _ . In fact, Yuuri had not thought about it for some time now. But seeing an odd sadness in the kitsune's eyes made him believe that somehow Viktor did not think this would be an obstacle to his departure, and that their parting was imminent. 

And so, Yuuri waited. Not daring to broach the subject himself, yet not preventing the inevitable from happening. 

But after a long silence, the kitsune pressed his lips together and gave Yuuri a small shake of his head, as if he had decided the words could wait for another day. 

Yuuri felt the loosening of a tight knot in his chest, strangely happy that they had at least another day together. He suggested a stroll in the gardens and the kitsune accepted with a smile.

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

Two more weeks passed and Yuuri could feel a heaviness growing in the air. 

Perhaps it was the first chill of autumn and the longer hours of darkness, or the smouldering auburn hue of falling leaves that seemed to place the world forever on the brink of a sunset. 

But Yuuri knew clearly that even though it seemed like nothing had changed, that they worked and laughed, and shared their precious moments together, he knew that the end was near. The  _ kitsune _ , whose constant companionship had slipped silently into his heart, would soon leave, and Yuuri dreaded it with every second that fell through his fingers. 

To his surprise, however, golden-haired Yuri made no further mention of leaving, not even a snarky reminder of his task to bring Viktor home, or a hint of pressure to hurry the older kitsune. Aside from his single lapse during their return, he carried on in his usual manner, surly but kind, testy but gentle. 

Instead, all the indications came from Viktor himself. 

Every evening, when they were about to descend the stone steps of the shrine, their two apprentices running ahead, eager for their dinner, Viktor would hesitate slightly at the top of the stairs and Yuuri would wait in silence, his heart thumping as he braced himself for the words they knew must come. 

But everyday for the past two weeks, Viktor had laid a gentle hand on Yuuri's arm and led him down the stairs, as he said with a smile, 

“Come, we will be late for dinner.”

Everyday, they repeated the same sequence of steps. Both of them waiting in silence. Yuuri holding his breath, wondering if something had finally tipped the scales and tonight would be the night he would return to the onsen alone. He could not tell if the silences becoming longer, or if Viktor seemed more hesitant. But he knew that winter was fast approaching, and the  _ kitsune _ would find their mates before the first snow. 

And so, it was perhaps unsurprising that on the eve of mid-autumn, before the rising of the full moon, the lingering hesitation had vanished from Viktor’s eyes and in its place was open sadness. As they stood once again in the golden light of dusk, footsteps faltering at the top of the stairs, the silence between them took on a renewed gravity. 

Yuuri felt a sinking in his heart and knew immediately that their time had come. He waited as darkness gradually fell around them, leaving only the dotted lights of the stone lanterns on the path. 

“Yuuri,” began Viktor in a wistful voice, “I have to leave.”

Yuuri nodded his head, holding back the tears that were pooling in his eyes. “I understand.”

“I must return for the end of my training. And I must choose a mate.”

“I understand,” repeated Yuuri quietly. 

After a long silence, Yuuri asked, “Will you be coming back to our shrine with your mate?”

Viktor avoided his gaze and said softly, “Yes, I believe Inari-sama will grant my wish and I will return.”

“Could you not stay and guard the shrine by yourself? With my help?” asked Yuuri, unable to conceal the desperation in his voice.

Viktor shook his head. “That is not the way Inari-sama has willed it. We both know this to be true. I can only be a guardian when I have found a mate.”

“But how will you return, Viktor?” Yuuri continued quickly, “We have not found your  _ hoshi-no-tama. _ You cannot return. You have said this yourself.” 

“I can return. Because I know where it is,” stated Viktor plainly, and he gave a helpless smile, as he added, “I have known for a long time.”

Yuuri stared at him in shock, as he exclaimed, “Where is it? Why have you kept it a secret?”

“It is the white ornament attached to your keys. I placed a disguise on it for its safety,” replied Viktor, who couldn’t seem to resist a cheeky smile, “Though I would expect a priest to recognise it even so.”

“But why did you not tell me about it?” asked Yuuri in distress, “Surely you must have seen it many times.”

“I have,” said Viktor, “Not clearly at first, but most certainly when we began work on the library. I chose not to confront you initially because I thought it was part of your plan. I did not trust you and I was afraid you would hide it again if I asked you about it. So, I decided to bide my time and wait for a chance to steal it back.”

“Ane you’ve never found the chance?” asked Yuuri incredulously, “But I sleep very deeply, Viktor. You know that.”

Viktor gave a small chuckle, “Indeed. But you have always kept it close to you and you would sometimes close your hand over it. Of course, I later found out that the gesture was not born of malice. But that the keys represented your duties to the shrine and you were protecting it even in your sleep.“

“I also found out,” added Viktor with a smile, “that you were righteous and trustworthy. And you were completely unaware that you held my treasure in your possession.”

“Then, why didn’t you ask for it back? I would have returned it without question.”

Abruptly, the innate playfulness of the  _ kitsune _ dissipated, and in its place a wistful look appeared, fixing Yuuri to the spot, as the shimmering blue-green eyes revealed a deep longing that was hard to bear.

“Because by then,” replied Viktor with a sad smile, “I did not want to leave. I wanted to stay. More than anything in the world, I wanted to stay. To help you. And to be by your side for as long as I could.”

Yuuri remained transfixed by the opalescent eyes, feeling the words wash over him like the crashing waves of the sea, each syllable reflecting the same yearning that clawed at his own heart. 

Then, stay. 

He wanted to say. More than anything in the world, he wanted Viktor to stay. Not just for another day, or another week, but always. 

Instead, he was betrayed by his own lips, and heard himself reply,

“But now you must leave.”

Viktor nodded, as he echoed, “But now I must leave.”

With fingers that moved as though they were weighed down by the burdens of the world, Yuuri slowly retrieved the keys from the folds of his robes. He gazed for a moment at the large white pearl, a bluish sheen flickering on its surface, then carefully slipped it from its chain. 

Reluctantly, he offered the ornament to Viktor, trying to keep his voice steady as he said, 

“Thank you for everything, Viktor.” 

Viktor’s gaze fell towards the ornament between them, his body held motionless, even when a single tear began trailing from his eyes and down his cheeks. 

Then, with a soft intake of air, he reached out his arm and closed his fingers around the pearl. 

As soon as he did, a blue fire burst forth from the white pearl, engulfing their joined hands with a haunting glow, like a star that had fallen from the sky. 

As the radiant  _ kitsune  _ fire burned between them, Viktor looked up at Yuuri with tears now falling freely down his face, as he forced a small smile and he said, 

“Look after little Yuri for me. I believe he intends to stay a while longer.”

But before he could pull his hand away, Yuuri tightened his grip around Viktor’s fingers, desperation clear in his eyes as he repeated his urgent plea, 

“But you will return, when you are done. You will return to us?”

In response, Viktor leaned closer towards him, enveloping him in a soothing presence, a gentle breath caressing his skin. Then, he felt the tender touch of soft lips that placed a small kiss on his cheek, followed by a whisper,

“I will return. Wait for me.”

Viktor pulled away abruptly before he could respond, taking with him the warmth of the sun as he turned towards the sacred forest. He transformed into the familiar form of the silver fox as he darted nimbly into the woods, a haunting blue orb now hovering above the swish of his silvery tail. 

Soon, the glimmer of silver and the flash of blue disappeared between the dense trees, leaving behind an emptiness that was filled only by the chirping of night insects.  

And Yuuri stood alone in the darkness, an aching hole in his heart where once the silver fox had resided. 

 

◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍◉⭘◎◍

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Any and all comments welcomed.  
> Come chat on tumblr! [Weberina](http://weberina.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
